HI POWER
by The Sage of Toads
Summary: From the man that introduced ARSENAL to a world of Awesome Shinjis, comes a story that promises to satire mercilessly the maligned Harry Sue. Join Harry as he embarks on a crusade of violence and debauchery that will justify its M rating soon enough!
1. The Prologue

Disclaimer: What the fuck am I writing this for? I don't even read Harry Potter!

**HI-POWER: Harry Is Pissed Off With Everyone's Rubbish**  
Fucking Fate in the face, Shinji Ikari style

_"This is how it all ends. For all of the pain, suffering, and fighting…this is how it all turns out."_

_"That's the nature of war. You can't choose to fight and expect to walk away unscathed."_

_"No, you can't. But I wasn't given much of a choice, now was I?"_

_"Well, if you had a choice, would you?"_

_"…"_

_"Well?"_

_"Yes, if I had a choice, I would."_

**[The Prologue]**

It was that conversation that brought us to Four Privet Drive in the town of Little Wingding…Wing-a-ling…Whining? Oh! It's _Whinging_, with a G, yo. Actually, it brought us to London, a number of kilometers away from its suburb where we joined the Boy-Who-Lived. The Dursleys were on a shopping trip and along for the ride was seven year old Harry Potter. Today, he was the pack mule, pushing the trolley full of all manner of product, food for the house, toys for Dudley, etc, etc make Harry miserable for kicks along the way.

"Hurry along, boy." Vernon muttered as Dudley was invariably drawn off by some shiny bauble in a window. As Petunia went off to placate the demands of a textbook case of childhood obesity, Harry came to a stop and looked aside to a shop window that sold antiques. One of them in particular was a tall, standing mirror, looking older than the combined ages of the Dursleys plus the next two houses down Privet Drive. While far from the antiques connoisseur, the aged majesty of the mirror was still kind of interesting.

Then Harry stood in front of it to view his reflection, and something unexpected happened. Staring back at him wasn't Harry James Potter, aged seven. It was a man three times his age with a few years tacked on to that staring him down. The quiet, reserved boy recoiled in surprise, and his reflection did the same. He looked down at himself, the reflection followed. He looked back up at it fully, and there was this adult mimicking his movements, it was absolutely fascinating.

As he peered closer at the reflection, similarities set off warning flags in his young brain. His reflection was very familiar looking, shaggy black hair and glasses and eyes that looked like his own. Giving pause, Harry raised his hand to his forehead and pushed up his hair. His reflection followed, and revealed the final piece of chilling evidence. On his reflection's forehead sat a scar identical to his own.

Young Harry's eyes widened as he stumbled back against the trolley, words of surprise trying to leave his mouth but failing. His reflection did not copy his movements, further startling the boy instead drawing forth a pointy stick and aiming it at him. Harry saw his older counterpart's lips move, but no words with them, before a flash of light left the stick and blinded him. Whatever it was hit him with impressive force, knocking him and the trolley down to the ground, and the poor boy laid there convulsing as the crash brought his Aunt and Uncle rushing towards the cause of the commotion.

It was almost too much for his brain to take, a sudden deluge of images, sensations, information, memories ripped into his head like the business end of a cerebral bore. People he'd never seen before in his life suddenly had names, places he'd never imagine existed suddenly he knew inside and out, and it all tore at his mind threatening to rend it apart and leave him a shattered husk of a child.

Then, all of a sudden, it all snapped into a single, painful, horrifyingly clear picture.

"Boy! Boy, what the Devil is the matter with you now?" Uncle Vernon, his face red with anger and embarrassment filled the panting boy's vision as his eyes opened. "Get on your feet, boy, you're making a scene!"

Harry didn't move.

Uncle Vernon shook him.

Harry punched him in the face with all his might.

It felt _good_.


	2. Book 1: The Gang's All Here

Disclaimer: What the fuck am I writing this for? I don't even read Harry Potter!

**HI-POWER: Harry Is Pissed Off With Everyone's Rubbish**  
The Gang's All Here

_Power Trio, ASSEMBLE!_

**[1.]**

One day, Harry Potter showed up at Diagon Alley and caused quite a sensation. Some even wondered if it had in fact been him, it had been during a slow part of the day and very few had seen him. If those who had were to be believed, who being old Tom, a vacationing Hufflepuff by the name of Nymphadora Tonks, the staff of Gringotts Wizarding Bank, the staff of Eeylops Owl Emporium and Mr. Ollivander, Harry passed through the Leaky Cauldron, withdrew and exchanged a fair amount of money from his family vault, purchased a lovely Snowy Owl from Eeylops, and paid a brief visit to Mr. Ollivander before just as quietly departing back through the Leaky Cauldron.

This brief appearance had the Daily Prophet and Wizarding Wireless Network lit up like a Christmas Tree for weeks, with experts and witnesses speculating on everything from the details of his appearance to rumors of further ones–although he wouldn't return until about four years later.

Entering the Leaky Cauldron, dressed in nice, fitting clothes and carrying a duffel bag and a bird cage that contained a contentedly dozing owl, a cheerful Harry Potter walked up to the bar and smiled to Tom. "Hello Mr. Tom, it's been a while hasn't it?"

The innkeeper looked up from wiping dry a mug and smiled kindly to the boy. "Ah! Young Harry Potter, welcome back! Are you on your way to Ollivander's?"

As he nodded, Harry was swarmed by the patrons of the pub, wizards and witches seeking to shake hands with The-Boy-Who-Owned. Doris Crockford, Daedalus Diggle, whom Harry recognized from a chance meeting while on an outing (and giggled like a schoolgirl and boasted when Harry stated he remembered him), and all the others came to get a glimpse at the sole savior of the Wizarding World as they knew it.

"Thank you, thank you…" Harry shook another hand, smiling and nodding to another wizard before taking a witch's to kiss in a gentlemanly fashion, bringing her to swoon.

"Ha, a cheeky one isn't he?" Another wizard laughed as he patted Harry on the shoulder. "Look at this owl of his, isn't she a beauty?"

"You must be excited to be on your way to Hogwarts, aye?" Daedalus asked him.

Harry nodded. "That's right; I've already got most everything, all I need are my books and wand."

"Well we shouldn't keep you waiting! You're going to be a fine Wizard, Harry! I'm sure of it!" Daedalus replied, before another figure stepped forward. Harry looked at him, and his smile grew upon seeing the skittish, turban wearing future Defense of the Dark Arts Instructor.

"P-Potter, it's a ho-honor to finally m-meet you in person!" Professor Quirrell stammered heavily as he shook Harry's freed hand.

"I've heard of you." Harry replied as he firmly shook the professor's hand back, almost too firmly. "You're going to teach DADA, right?"

"Hear that, Quirrell? Harry Potter's heard of _you_!" A middle-aged witch preened, sounding like a fifteen year old girl.

"I-I'm flattered, thank you P-Potter!" He replied like he didn't want to be there. Harry was still shaking his hand, too. "Yes, that's r-right I'll be teaching Dark Arts Defense, but you w-won't need it, r-right?"

"That's right." Harry tightened his grip on Quirrell's hand, and then let go at the last moment. Noticing the pain he appeared to be in, he smiled. "Sorry about that…my Uncle Vernon always said that a firm handshake was a sign of manliness. I may have gone overboard with it."

Quirrell, still smarting, smiled weakly to Harry. "Oh no, no…it's alright. I injured it during a d-dueling practice."

Harry nodded back. "Well, I hope it heals up nicely. It was nice meeting you, Professor, all of you, but I must be on my way." He turned to face the innkeeper. "Shall we, Mr. Tom?"

"Of course, right this way Harry!" Tom said with a smile on his face and a spring in his step. To the back they went, and with the SUPER TOP SECRET SEQUENCE, the doorway to Diagon Alley opened and Harry was free to head through. With a farewell to Tom, Harry entered into Diagon Alley and once he was out of sight of the innkeeper he pulled out some hand-sanitizer and went to town, rubbing the strong-smelling alcohol based disinfectant onto his hands up to his elbows.

"I can't believe I actually touched that…that…!" He shuddered all over in revulsion. Stopping himself, he waved his arms dry and sighed. "Next time I put hands on him, he's dead."

"Put hands on whom?" A familiar voice called from behind Harry before he was placed in a headlock. "Already a delinquent, you little shit?"

Harry looked up at the blue-haired, red-eyed woman staring down at him. "Hello Tonks, new look?"

"I can't seem to hold down redhead, so I thought to reverse it." Nymphadora Tonks, Hogwarts Graduate, pulled away from the impromptu embrace and dusted Harry off. "Turns out it is pretty popular among Japanese witches and–bollocks!"

Harry laughed as the metamorphmagus suddenly became more Japanese in appearance. Tonks was always amusing in her oddball antics. Appraising herself in the reflection of a shop window, Tonks sighed. "I guess I'd be big in Japan, huh?"

"Yes you would." Harry was not looking at her face. Tonks bopped him on the head. "Ow!"

"Puberty's already begun its strike I see. The witches better watch out for you." Tonks said. "So, how are you doing?"

Harry beamed to Tonks. "I've been waiting years for this day, getting my wand and becoming a proper Wizard. So I'm pretty excited."

"Right, how did those horrid muggles of yours take the news?"

"Oh, they took it pretty well actually." When Harry presented his letter of acceptance, Vernon was more than eager to know when he had to leave.

Tonks nodded. "Well, since you're here and I'm here and I've got nothing to do, do you mind if I tag along?"

"Sure." Harry replied as he scanned the crowd.

"Great! Now, for your wand first, or do you want to stop for a quick bite? There's this new place that's opened up–I know, big shock huh? But it's French so it's gotta be good…" Tonks' very animated and non-sequitur-laden talking took an immediate backseat as Harry spotted a familiar head of bushy, curled hair in front of a bookstore. His eyes widened, and he smiled before heading over to it.

"…And then my Father said the French were all cheese-eating surrender monkeys and–Harry?" Tonks went after him.

"Excuse me for a second?" Harry asked her, to which she relented. Still smiling, he crept over towards Hermione Granger, engrossed in a copy of "Hogwarts: A History"–so much so that she never noticed Harry round her and peer over her shoulder into the book.

He looked from her book to her face. There was no better time to start on the right foot than the present. "So, are you a first year too?"

The reaction was priceless, she looked at him as he began talking, and his complete violation of her personal space made her jump away in fright. She let out a squeak as she blushed–how amusingly cute. "Ah, y-yes I am…"

She right away noticed his clothes and grew more relieved. "Oh, you're a muggle-born too? It-It's so amazing, isn't it? I never knew, I mean, I had read some odd things, well kind of odd, off and on, and uh…" She trailed off from her rambling when she noticed his scar. "Oh! You're Harry Potter, I've read about you!"

"I imagine there's not much to read about." Harry replied with a small smile.

Hermione nodded. "Nobody really knows what happened that night, do you?"

"I can't really say, since I was just a baby then." He was enjoying star-striking her. "I just lucked out, the spell bounced off me and back on him."

"And you came out of it with nothing but a scar and uh…dead parents." Hermione's face darkened in embarrassment for that. "I'm sorry."

"Oh don't worry about that, I've gotten over it a long time ago. You didn't offend." Harry said as he retained a friendly smile.

Hermione nodded slowly, surprised that he took it so well. "You're already so different from what I expected."

Harry's brows rose. "Oh?"

"Well, almost everyone I've met talks about you like you're the world's greatest hero, and talk about how you've been hidden in Atlantis for safety from You-Know-Who's followers, and that you've been personally instructed by Albus Dumbledore himself since you could walk." Hermione explained.

Harry laughed. "That sounds fantastic, but I've really just been living with the muggle relatives of my mother. All of this wizardry stuff is kind of new to me, and the hero worship is pretty weird."

He definitely wasn't what she'd expected, and Hermione realized she liked that. She shifted from one foot to the other. "Well uh, since we're both first years, if you need anything at all, I'd be happy to help!"

She was really nice, but so shy. He forgot that about her. "Thank you, you seem really nice. Uh, pardon but I didn't get your name."

"Hermione Granger, I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself…"

"It's alright." Harry said as he extended his hand. Looking down at it in confusion, it quickly clicked to the star-struck girl that she should shake his hand, and she did so vigorously.

"Oh, uh…thank you. Well, my parents are probably waiting for me, I should hurry along. It was nice meeting you Harry…and uh, you have a very pretty owl." She said skittishly but with an honest friendly smile.

Harry smiled warmly and let go of her hand to wave as she departed. She was clearly walking on air as she disappeared into the crowd. Sometimes the power of celebrity was awesome. By the time he was older, he was going to get so much action…

"Well, what was that all about?" Tonks asked. Her voice was dripping with implications. "Made a new friend already?"

Harry nodded. He was unaware of the small blush on his face when he spoke. "Yes, she's interesting."

Tonks was aware, though. "Oh, so she's _that_kind of interesting? Aren't you starting early?"

He looked up at her. "What do you mean early?" He asked just as he realized it too late.

"Oh you know, girls, mushy stuff, messy stuff…" She giggles. "…_Really_messy stuff…"

"Yuck, you're a pervert. I just think she's cute." Harry replied. The two of them began the walk towards Ollivander's.

"I'm quite sure of that." Tonks ruffled up his hair. "You're going to be a real ladies man at school, I bet. Shame I won't be there to warn them."

They opened the door and were greeted with a wave from the kindly old Mr. Ollivander. "Hello Harry, it's nice seeing you again. How have you been?"

Harry smiled. "I've been great. I've been taking care of myself since last time, so you don't even need to fret." He held out his arms, showing the new and nicely fitting clothes he wore. "I've even got my own clothes, see?"

Ollivander laughed. "I see! Now then, Harry…" He produced a box down before him. "Here it is, just like you left it. If I recall correctly, you had issued me a challenge?"

Tonks, confused, looked down at Harry. "You? A challenge?"

Harry's smile grew as he opened his box and drew his wand. "Holly, thirteen inches, phoenix feather core, it's just like His." He said with an ominous ring to it. He nodded to Ollivander. "Yes, a challenge that with my first try off the wand, I'd do something amazing. If I won, I'd get something from him."

Tonks looked between Harry and Ollivander as the latter waved his wand and levitated a single pot in front of a wall. Okay, so Harry was going to try to hit the pot with a spell? Cool, there's nothing wrong with that.

But wait…how would Harry even know how to use a wand if he hadn't been to Hogwarts and only went to Diagon Alley once? Tonks looked from the target to Harry, and was about to ask what spell did he learn that he was going to use when he suddenly announced…

"Confrigo."

The explosion that followed easily dispatched the jar, cratered the wall behind it, and rattled the entire building. Her hair blown back by the blast and her face covered in dust and soot from the smoke, Tonks looked over to Harry, who smiled as he appraised the wand. Ollivander peered up from behind his counter, a silly grin on the old man's face. He reached under the counter and walked over to hand him a book.

"Good show, Harry!" He said proudly as he patted the likewise soot and smoke covered boy on the shoulder. On the counter, his owl let out an indignant craw at her blackened white feathers.

Harry preened. "Thanks Mr. Ollivander–whoa…!" Tonks had grabbed him and whirled him around, her hair stark white and her features suitably morphed to display her shock and disbelief to maximum effect. "…Ah that's a nice face?"

"Harry, where did you learn to do that?" She wheezed out, a puff of smoke escaping with her words. "That's stuff on the levels of _Aurors_! You can't just sling a spell like that without a care! You haven't even been to school yet!"

Looking around shiftily, Harry offered a weak explanation. "I learned it from uh…a book?"

"What book, and can I borrow it?" She demanded as she shook him as one would a rag doll.

"Ahh…T-Tonks…!" He wailed as he was shook. "I…I b-borrowed it f-from Al-b-bus D-Dumbledore…!"

Tonks stopped and dropped him. "Borrowed it from Dumbledore? Why didn't you tell me, Harry?"

Harry scratched the side of his head. He looked around shiftily. "Uh…it was a secret, yeah."

Easing up, Tonks put on a smirk and helped him up. "It kind of hurts you didn't tell me this, but I'll forgive you just this once. However, you now owe me."

The-Boy-Who-Kicked-Ass tilted his head to one side. "What?" She locked her arm around his head and pulled him against her before burying her fist into his dense head of hair and grinding her knuckles against his scalp with a malicious laugh. "AH! NO!"

"You little shit! I'm gonna do this every time I see you, and you'd better not try to hide!" She announced as she delivered her devastating noogie. After breaking free with first a punch to her back and then one to her gut, Harry escaped Tonks reach with a gasping laugh as he reached to the top of his head and rubbed it.

Tonks laughed as well, and then looked at his book. "So! What did you win from Old Ollivander?" She asked.

Harry looked at the book, and then smiled to the would-be Auror. "You mean this book?" He replied.

Before she could reach and grab it, he called out "Hedwig!" and a blur of white snatched it out of his hand and soon was on her way out of the door. Harry smiled. "Sorry, that's a secret."

Tonks stopped, and stared at him with a smile. "You cheeky brat, ever since we've met, you've always been mysteries and secrets; this is no different, yeah?"

Harry lowered his arm from his flamboyant pose. "One day, Tonks, everything will be made terribly clear."

And maybe this time she'd live to see it. He looked down at his wrist, and the nice wristwatch that coiled around it. "Well, that's done; shall we get to the bookstore? I have to talk to Mr. Ollivander in private, but I'll catch up."

Snapping her fingers, Tonks nodded. "Alright, I'll see you at Flourish and Blotts, Harry!" She declared before leaving. As she left, Ollivander chuckled.

"She's always been an easily excitable one, just like her mother and..." He trailed off from his observation, as he produced a box and handed it to Harry. "Here you go."

Taking the box, Harry weighed it in his hands and magically it opened. Ollivander stared in interest. When he had been delivered the box and been told to hold onto it for Harry Potter's arrival, he had been unable to so much as make the lid budge. That it simply opened for the boy was just as curious. Harry peered inside before closing it up and nodding to Ollivander. "Thank you, Mr. Ollivander; I knew I could count on you."

Ollivander smiled. "I should be thanking you for trusting me with something that seems so important to you." He then grew curious. "What is in there anyway?"

Harry put the box in his duffel bag as Hedwig flew back in without the book. "Sorry, Mr. Ollivander, but it's a big surprise for someone I can't name right now. You understand?"

The old man nodded, and Harry left the store, waving over his shoulder. He checked his watch as soon as he was back out in the alley. "I'd better get going. I'll need to catch Tonks before she goes and blows something up out of boredom."

Now armed with his wand and everything he would need for the school year, Harry headed towards Flourish and Blotts. This year, he hoped, would be very productive. On his way, he stopped in front of Madam Malkin's shop, and peered inside at the blonde young man sitting inside before shaking his head and continuing on with a laugh.

* * *

Harry's biggest regret was that he didn't get to spend time with Hagrid before he went to Hogwarts for the first time, however the ride to the train station he felt almost made up for it. The tension in the car was so thick; you could pluck some of it in a handful and eat it. It'd be delicious too, just like the fear at his left emanating from dear cousin Dudley. The plump little bastard was pressed against the door, in a desperate bid to put as much distance between himself and Harry (and more importantly his bird) as humanly possible.

Up front, Petunia occasionally glanced up at the rearview mirror at Harry, partly to make sure he didn't hurt Dudley, and partly to make sure he didn't try to hurt her. The only person who didn't seem too bothered was Vernon, who seemed as irritated at his wife and son's behavior as he was at the sight of Harry.

"Alright then, here we are." He said, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. "Get out."

Harry nodded. "Yes sir."

As he began to get out of the car, Hedwig turned her head nearly one hundred-eighty degrees to stare at Dudley. The boy let out a whimper and almost pushed himself out of the passenger side door. This made Vernon's already poor mood intensify, but he refrained from saying anything to his son. He looked out the window at Harry, who had removed his own bags from the trunk and made it to the sidewalk. The two looked to one another, and shared a nod.

Harry then spoke. "Well, I'm off to my school of freaks. I won't be back for holidays, so you'll be free of me until the end of the year." At that, Petunia visibly relaxed, as did her darling Dudley. Harry continued. "However, if you're not here when I leave this station, or at Privet Drive should I get there, I will find you."

He stared more at Petunia and Dudley when he said it, his eyes gaining a lifeless characteristic disturbingly familiar to all of them. The creepily chortling owl in her cage amplified the effect. Petunia looked away, shivering in revulsion, while Dudley wet himself on the seat. Vernon grimaced; he and Dudley were going to have words later about this cowardice of his. Honestly, what Harry did to him was not that bad.

Vernon looked to Harry, started the car up, and just said. "I'll be sure to record your shows." And like that he was off, peeling off from the curb as fast as he could and merging into traffic, leaving Harry behind in a cloud of thick "fuck off" smoke. Coughing, Harry watched them go, and then looked to Hedwig as his coughing turned into laughter.

"Hahaha…HAHAHAHA! Yes, I'm free!" Harry called out to the sky, his voice full of triumph and joy. Hedwig then growled out something that ruined the boy's boast. Given the length of her vocalizations, it was something especially sarcastic and straight to the quick. Harry stopped, and dropped his shoulders as his arms dropped at his sides. "Oh yeah, I forgot."

He then brightened up, and rattled the owl's cage a bit. "No sense in dwelling on it, though. I'm going to do much better this time around, and you know that for your own sake I had damn well better."

Hedwig growled at the rattling, but was quickly won over by a piece of bacon. Harry turned about and headed inside the terminal and followed the platforms until he got to where Nine and Three-Fourths was located. Checking both his watch and the station clock, he found sure enough the very people he'd expected to find on their way in.

"Now just you wait, you can't do this too quickly." Molly Weasley chastised her darling twin boys Fred and George as they prepared to go charging in.

George Weasley looked up at his mother. "Come now Mum, we've done this plenty of times."

"Yeah!" Fred protested along with him as Harry wandered over and waited alongside the youngest Weasley boy as he fidgeted nervously.

The matriarch of the Weasleys grew cross at the back talk. "Don't talk back at me, George."

George turned to her in confusion. "What? No, I'm Fred." He indicated his brother. "That's George."

"Yeah," Fred said, "You call us our Mother, woman?"

Molly stopped, and looked between the two boys. Oh how she hated how they wore identical clothes or tended to swap them just to mess with her. "Alright, I'm sorry for it."

George grinned as both boys suddenly bolted off. "We were just fooling! See you Christmas!"

Becoming irate, Molly called after them, but stopped when they vanished through the column. Sighing, she turned to Ron. "Alright Ron, it's your turn…oh?" She stopped when she saw Harry standing right behind her son. Following her gaze, Ron looked back and nearly jumped out his skin when he realized how close Harry was in his personal space.

"Ah! Don't sneak up on people like that, man!" He cried out. "It's already bad enough that I'm nervous as all Hell!"

Harry stepped back, still chuckling, when Molly chastised Ron for swearing. "Sorry, I'm sorry. I'm just waiting to get through to the Hogwarts express, it's my first year."

Molly warmed when the boy made his intentions known. "Well, it's actually just a matter of going through at the right clip. It's not too hard, but my little Ron is afraid to go through with it."

Oh, how Harry could empathize with him now. He looked over to Ron and smiled. "Well don't worry. I'm nervous as all Hell too, but I'm better known as Harry."

Ron's gaze immediately went to his forehead when he gave his name. His eyes immediately widened, and Harry wished that he had a camera. "No way…you…you're…!"

Molly recognized the boy's odd mark too, and gasped. "Oh goodness, you're the genuine Harry Potter!"

Harry beamed. "Yes, not to be confused with the generic over-the-counter Harry Potters on the market today." His little joke did the trick, garnering a laugh out of Molly and a shy smile from the little girl that hid behind her. Funny, he hadn't even noticed her until now, but there she was as cute as he'd first remembered seeing her. He smiled to the girl, and she waved back.

"You're a witty boy, Mr. Potter." Molly said, regaining his attention. "On behalf of the Weasley Family, I hope you enjoy your first year at Hogwarts. If you need anything, don't be afraid to ask for those boys of mine Fred and George, be wary though they are tricksters."

"I'll keep that in mind. Thank you." With a polite nod, he turned to Ron. "Don't worry about a thing, Ron. I have a feeling the school year's going to be great for all of us."

Ron stared, a little star struck much like Hermione, at Harry, who then stopped and extended his hand. "So, would you like to be friends?" Ron looked down at the offered hand, as though it were made of gold, and then back up at Harry before smiling and shaking his hand. So cool, Harry Potter, THE Harry Potter wanted to be his friend!

"Of course I do!" He glanced back towards his little sister. "Ah, um…that's my little sister, Ginny. It's a real honor, Harry."

Harry smiled big. "Don't make a big deal of it, I just want to have a good year, and I have a good feeling about you, Ron."

"A good feeling…?" Ron asked, before a pair of voices called from beyond the wall.

"STOP BAWLING TO MUMSY AND GET IN HERE, RONNIE-KINS!" Both twins called mockingly. Ron's face flushed in embarrassment, as Harry let go of his hand and chuckled himself.

"Well, let's go." He said to Ron, who seemed a lot more upbeat about the prospect of going to a Wizarding School. Grabbing their respective carts, both rushed with confidence through the barrier, and promptly bowled over Fred and George.

* * *

After boarding the train and getting a good look at the sights and sounds of a Wizard's boarding platform, Harry and Ron were seated in one of the few empty compartments as the Hogwarts Express chugged out of the station for its long, unseen to Muggle eyes journey. As they rode along, they got to talking about their respective home lives.

"You've been living with muggles all this time, really?" Ron asked, as surprised to learn this as Hermione was. "I never would've guessed. What're they like?"

Harry closed his eyes and sighed as he lounged on his seat. "The ones I live with? Oh they're horrid. My Aunt is a shrill, loud, petty woman who's really jealous of my mother, and my cousin, her son, is a spoiled twat who used to pick on me a lot when we were little." He opened his eyes. "My Uncle's not so bad; he and I have things in common, so he's at least tolerable."

"Oh, what do you have in common, muggle things?" Ron pressed.

Harry affirmed. "He and I bond over stuff like cars, sport, and you know…muggle stuff like that. I doubt it'd interest you."

Ron shrugged his shoulders. "No, I guess not."

"I'd like to have had some magical relatives who weren't, well, dead." Harry complained as he glanced out the window. "…Or in jail."

Ron looked at him. "Huh?"

Harry looked back. "What? I mean, you have two older brothers and everything…"

"Actually, I have five and all of them went to Hogwarts. My oldest ones Bill and Charlie already left and now have amazing jobs overseas, Percy is in his fifth year and he's Prefect, and Fred and George get good marks all the time and are really popular." As he spoke Ron reached for a familiar container, Harry's eyes narrowed a bit. "The only thing I'm really nervous about is going there and having to meet all these expectations. It's like I'm just another Weasley, and I have to be just like the other ones."

He opened the container and produced a fat gray rat. "I got handed down their clothes, their books…I even have Percy's old pet rat, Scabbers."

Harry stared silently at the rat and shivered. Behind him a hairline crack inexplicably appeared on the window. Ron didn't even notice it, because of Harry's odd stare, when he finally did, he'd assume it had always been there. "What, you don't like rats?"

Ron set Scabbers down, and the rat began sniffing around the tabletop between him and Harry, who shook his head. "No, no…I'm okay with rodents. So, what house are you hoping to get into?"

"Well, Gryffindor, of course." Ron said. "My brothers all were there. What about you?"

Harry's eyes never left the rat. "Oh…Gryffindor I guess, like my Father. You know…he was a really good guy, or so I'm told. You could trust him with anything, and he was always eager to trust others."

Ron nodded, and never noticed for Scabbers go rigid. Harry looked down at the rat. "So, does he know any tricks, like roll over? Play dead?"

Scabbers looked back at Harry, was he staring directly at him when he said that. Ron picked up Scabbers, and hugged him close. "He doesn't do anything; he's just a big old grump."

"Nonsense, I'm sure he's an excellent listener and a keeper of secrets." Harry hid a smirk when the rat froze again. Ron looked down at the rat when he felt it go stiff. "Is something wrong with him?"

Ron shrugged his shoulders. "Don't know, something's got him really spooked."

Harry heard the food cart approach, and waved it off ignorantly. "It's probably he's hungry."

"Oh? I only got some sandwiches and…" He stopped when Harry got up and headed to the door with a smile. "Harry, the train's food is expensive!"

He looked back to Ron. "Don't worry about the cost. I don't mind paying."

And in moments the two of them between them had enough food to last them two journeys on the Hogwarts Express. Almost immediately, Ron impressed The-Boy-Who-Was-Like-A-Boss with his ability to make food disappear like he was some sort of martial arts fine diner. However, Harry was not one to be outdone, given his periods of malnutrition, and by the time Hermione Granger came to the door in search of a lost toad, the plates of food between the two of them had been stripped of even crumbs.

"You can really put it away, Potter." Ron congratulated as he set down a final empty plate. "Sure you're not actually a Weasley?"

"I'm no Weasley, but I was pretty hungry." Harry heard the door knock, and got up sluggishly to his feet to open it. Sure enough there was Hermione. "Oh! Hello Miss Granger."

"Ah yes, one of the other passengers, Neville, lost his toad and he…" She stopped. "Hello again, Harry!"

He looked over to Ron. "Oh, this is Hermione Granger; I met her in Diagon Alley a month ago. She's alright."

"Ronald Weasley." Ron waved to her. A friend of Harry's was a friend of his, he decided. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

He looked over to all the plates. "I'd uh, offer you some but me an' Harry ate it all."

"It's alright, I already ate." Hermione said. "Besides, I'm in the midst of a search. Have you seen a toad come this way?"

"We haven't, I'm afraid." Harry replied before peering outside into the aisle, where he was immediately greeted by the round-faced and somewhat portly Neville Longbottom. "Ah…you would be Neville?"

"I'm really sorry to trouble you for this," the boy pleaded, "He keeps getting away from me, not matter what I try!"

Ron made a face. "It's alright; if I had a toad I'd lose him too. I kind of wish I did, he'd be better than this lazy bum." Scabbers was asleep on his lap, occasionally scratching at his muzzle.

Neville sighed and looked to Hermione. "Look, thanks but I guess I'll just have to wait for him to turn up. If only he'd do it soon."

"Oh alright, I'm sorry we couldn't find it." Hermione said before she looked back over to the other boys as Neville bid farewell and departed. Harry had returned to his seat and sat back with a chuckle.

"Owls, rats, toads…everyone seems to have some sort of magical animal of some kind." He mused.

Hermione nodded. "Well, every wizard or witch has to have at least one familiar. I haven't gotten one yet, but I'm hoping to get a cat."

Harry nodded, and glanced at Scabbers, who'd opened one eye at the mention of a cat. "You could also get a terrier, I've never heard of that being used as a familiar."

Hermione quickly stated that she was more a cat person as she invited herself to sit with them. Ron, of course still in the "Girls are Icky" stage of life like most boys his age, regarded this with annoyance but said nothing of it. "So, uh…what houses do you think you're going into?"

To her question, Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I'm hoping for my Gryffindor, you Ron?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "I'm going into Gryffindor, just like every other Weasley before me. I'd rather go into Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, you know? So I can be a Weasley who did something different from the rest."

Harry flinched. "Ah, you don't want to go into Hufflepuff…I heard there was once a monster there."

Immediately both Hermione and Ron stared at him. "There's a monster…in Hufflepuff?"

Looking from the girl to Ron suspiciously, he nodded slowly. "Yeah, it's a shape-shifting beast that's always up to no good. Its favorite tactic is sneaking up on unsuspecting victims…" He smiled darkly as Ron went a little pale at the prospect of there being a monster in the school. "…and putting them in headlocks."

Somewhere far away, Nymphadora Tonks sneezed, prompting her to fail her stealth course.

Ron stopped, and stared. "What, that's all? My brothers do that to me all the time! I thought you were talking about something really scary, like a dragon or a troll."

Hermione remembered. "Wait…is this 'Monster' that older girl I saw you with in Diagon Alley, Harry?"

Crap, he'd been found out. He let out a laugh and leaned back. "Yeah, that's who it is. She's crazy, and a delinquent, but she's a lot of fun."

"Is she your girlfriend?" Hermione asked. At that Ron raised his eyebrows, a shape-shifting girl who put people in headlocks? That sounded familiar.

Harry shook his head. "No! She's just a friend of mine. Besides, she likes mature older guys."

Ron put it together. "Wait a minute; I know who you're talking about! You know Nymphet Tonks?"

"Nymphet…? Where'd you get that from?" With her, Harry knew the golden rule: Don't refer to her as anything but Tonks.

"My brothers Charlie, Percy, and Fred and George know all about her. They say she was one of the worst pranksters and troublemakers since the Marauders!" Ron said.

"Yes but, Nymphet?" Harry inquired.

Ron blushed a bit at that. "Uh…well, if Charlie and Percy are to be believed, she earned that nickname during her sixth and seventh year. But uh, since you know her I bet you know not to call her that to her face."

Hermione went aghast. "Oh, that's so gross!"

Ron waved his hands. "I only know what they told me, honest! Honest!"

Harry laughed. "Thanks Ron, I'll be sure to use that against her next time." And probably get destroyed for it, but hey she was already going to be tormenting him with headlocks and stuff from now on.

The doors slid open, and all three looked up to see three newcomers standing in the doorway. All three of course Harry already knew even before the blonde young man gazing directly at him spoke. "So the rumors are true, the great Harry Potter is coming to Hogwarts."

"Ah, hello…" Hermione greeted, only to be ignored after a probing glance from the young man. Harry rose from his seat, staring at him, and experiencing a lot of mixed feelings. He fell under the newcomer's scrutiny again.

"Allow me to introduce ourselves." He gestured to the two large children at his sides. "That's Crabbe, and this is Goyle, and I'm Draco Malfoy."

He looked over towards Ron, and raised his eyebrows. "Hm, hand-down-clothes, red hair and freckles, a confused and dull expression…you're a Weasley, right?"

Ron glared at him for the rib as Crabbe and Goyle smirked like Draco was the funniest man on Earth. Draco looked to Harry. "It's a crying shame you have to share a train car with this rat and his pet. They have a lot in common, don't you think? All they do is eat, reproduce, and send lower and lower quality Wizards off to Hogwarts."

Harry's emotions on the subject settled down, as Ron got up, absolutely livid at the insults. "You take that back!"

Goyle and Crabbe immediately stepped up, the former speaking as they used their size and height to glare down Ron. "Or you'll what, blood traitor?"

Ron hesitated, as Draco extended his hand to Harry. "You'll soon find out some wizard families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

Hermione got up to try to keep Ron from going nuts and attacking one of them. Looking back their way, Harry smiled and turned to tightly grasp Draco's hand in his own. The smug smirk the blonde wore melted off his face when Harry's grip became painfully tight. He looked down at his hand, and then back at Harry's face with wide eyes.

His eyes were blank, lifeless, staring more through Draco than at him as he stepped closer and spoke in a low voice. "After spending a good portion of my life with the worst people on Earth, I think I've become a good judge of character. I don't know about you Malfoy, but thanks to people who have given me nothing but contempt from the day I was left on their doorstep, I've developed a bit of prejudice against those who do the same to others."

Harry's grip tightened. "I'd gladly become friends with you…if you weren't such a cruddy little shit."

Ron stopped and recoiled as Harry let go of Draco's hand. Before either could react, Harry swiftly elbowed Crabbe in the stomach and then punched Goyle hard in the jaw, sending the former doubling over and the latter crumpling to the floor in a daze. Draco took a step back, his eyes wide as Harry turned his attention back to him.

"I hope we can become friends. All of us." He said as his frosty tone warmed up and the life returned to his eyes. He'd waited years to do that.

Trembling, Draco smacked Goyle on the head to snap him out of his hit and then grabbed Crabbe by the arm. "Let's get out of here!"

Scrambling lethargically, all three left the compartment, Draco lobbing a threat back at Harry as they rushed down the aisle. Closing the door, Harry brushed it off and turned back to Ron and Hermione, who were both stunned.

"Whoa…what was that?" Ron asked. Hermione was amazed, and a little scared as she watched Harry return to his seat.

Harry looked at the two of them. "I don't like people who bully others."

He looked out the window, and smiled as he saw the sky darkening over the mountains and trees passed by and through respectively. He could also feel the train slowing down. "I think we're almost there, you guys."

Ron and Hermione looked to each other and had the same thought. The-Boy-Who-Lived was strange, and intimidating, but so far…he was a pretty good guy.

* * *

A/N: Seriously, I've never written a fanfic out of anger, but after spending a weekend trudging through Perfect Lionheart's "Partially Kissed Hero" I couldn't take it anymore. So now Harry Potter fans, you have HI POWER. You know who to blame.


	3. Book 1: First Impressions Again

Disclaimer: Perfect Lionheart is a terrible writer. This story is crap, but it's better than Partially Kissed Hero. Therefore, I'm dedicating this to him.

**HI-POWER: Harry Is Pissed Off With Everyone's Rubbish**  
First Impressions…Again

_Welcome to Hogwarts_

**[2.]**

The First Years had arrived at Hogwarts, Neville had found his toad, and the Sorting Hat had sung its song. As Harry waited his sorting, he immediately thought about what lay ahead. His first year at Hogwarts and the first trial were ahead. While it was far too early to set the tone, this would be both the warm up and the crucible. The changes he would make would determine how different everything during the much more difficult battles would become.

Years worth of planning had gone into this, and that in itself was the biggest concern Harry faced as he was called up, and told to sit in the stool. He ignored the whispers of surprised students at the mentioning of his name, as he settled down and awaited the inevitable. The hat was quickly placed over his eyes.

_"Well, shit. You're all sorts of fucked in the head, aren't ya?"_

This was unexpected. "Excuse me?" Harry whispered back.

_"You don't need to run your gob you little shit; I can hear you just fine in here."_

Harry flushed a bit and replied. _"You're pretty vulgar for a hat."_

"And you're pretty old in the head for a brat of eleven. Sit in the headmaster's office for 364 days a year only to be brought out and slapped on some snot-nosed kids' domes for a thousand years and see how clean your language is."

The hat snapped back.

Quickly, Harry understood. The Hat could read thoughts, memories, secrets, and so on. In all honesty, the Sorting Ceremony had been something of such little consequence that he forgot this detail. It could bite him on the ass or come to be of valuable service. _"It beats being set on fire, you know."_

"Yeah, I just got to that part, fucking snake-headed tosser."

The hat grumbled back. _"I am in a bit of a jam though. If you thought you were Slytherin material before, you're looking at being the epitome of Sally's wet dreams this time around. I feel a strong compulsion to say the S-word and fuck up your Christmas, boyo."_

Harry grimaced, blackmailed by a hat, how ignominious. _"Is there anything I can do to avoid it, and your constant reminders?"_

_"Sure there is. Keep me out of the Headmaster's office, and I'll do you more than that. Since I'm in the know, you'll need someone who knows what needs to be known, savvy?"_

_"Very. Put me in Gryffindor and let's do this thing."_

_"Quite right."_

Professor McGonagall had been quite concerned by the hat's silence, moreover Harry's, and had stepped over to address it, when the Hat yelled out. "Harry Potter, you belong in only one house…GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry, as the cheers and hollers broke out, looked up at the hat. _"Go easy on Ron. Its bad enough his rat is a traitor and a mass-murderer."_

_"Relax, Potter, I'll be sure to try to sculpt him into less of a twat, but I'm not a miracle worker, just a fuckin' hat. Oh yeah, and while we're on the subject of twats, be sure to do something about that Granger girl on your end. One of the few heads I liked sitting on today."_

A relieved McGonagall removed the hat and allowed Harry to jog over to the table amidst the cheers of his new housemates. He immediately found his seat right next to Hermione, who looked over to him with a small smile. "So what took you so long?"

"The Sorting Hat is weird." Harry noted.

Hermione nodded in agreement, as the Hat fired off another sorting. "To think, that this is only the beginning of it all. It's only going to get stranger and more amazing from here."

"Yes…" Ron dropped down onto the bench next to them, sighing in despair. "Being a Gryffindor won't be so bad, Ron."

"It's not that." Harry blinked as Ron turned a glare towards the Sorting Hat. "It called me a wanker."

Harry and Hermione stared at Ron, and then looked over to the cheerful and witty Sorting Hat as it sent another girl off to Slytherin. Harry gave it a deadpan stare. The Hat's mockery of a face winked his way.

Maybe he should set it on fire himself.

* * *

A few days had passed, and Harry was already in the groove of things, that is to say he was already wishing he was dead by the time Friday rolled around when he realized that this was going to be a long school year of crawling through courses he remembered already taking. Having a different perspective on it all helped somewhat, but the temptation to deviate from the course was almost too high.

For example: avoiding Argus Filch and Mrs. Norris was easier than cake, Peeves not so much, and Harry was considering introducing the unpleasant ghost to a little movie starring Bill Murray and some of his good friends. Being up in the Astronomy Tower on Wednesday night immediately dragged up unpleasant memories, especially when he passed the places where Dumbledore fell and then went on to hit the ground. It made for very uncomfortable sleeping the night after.

A History of Magic Harry actually slept through, and it resulted in ten points being taken off against Gryffindor for the crime. It couldn't be held it against him, two others, both Slytherins, were likewise caught as were a Ravenclaw and three Hufflepuffs. Professor Flitwick was still a fan, of course, and like before he fell off his desk when he got to Harry's name. Finally, his favorite class turned out to be Professor McGonagall's.

Maybe it was because that beyond her strictness she was a badass master duelist, or that she was dangerously competent compared to other adults he recalled, but he paid the Transfigurations Class extra attention and naturally screwed up turning the matchstick into a needle. He didn't need to steal Hermione's thunder, after all.

Harry also slept through Defense against the Dark Arts, and gave it away when he woke up from a nightmare halfway through it, interrupting Quirrel and garnering strange looks from the other students. A haughty remark from Draco in the ensuing rabble caused by Harry's yelp earned him a dark look from The-Boy-Who-Had-Many-Hyphens, and he skirted away from his comment with a slight flush and a nervous cough. Harry wasn't taking any shit from that stain. On the bright side, Ron and Hermione stuck closer to him afterward, out of concern over the content of his dreams and how pale and shaken they had left him.

"All I'm saying is that you freaked out awfully badly in Defense against the Dark Arts, are you sure you're alright, Harry?" Ron asked for the eighth time since the incident yesterday.

Harry waved it off dismissively. "Yes, for the thousandth time. I'll be fine; it's not the first time."

"That worries me a little more." Hermione stated as they reached Potions class and took their seats.

"If you had my home life, you'd understand." Harry informed. Hermione stared at him after that, he seemed so tired all the time. Not in a physical way, just…generally weary. But before she could point this out, the doors opened and in swooshed in the Potions Master himself, Severus Snape. Silence fell as he briskly moved across the floor at enough of a pace to send his robes flowing behind him.

Harry looked over to Ron, who returned the curious look over the needless theatrics. Immediately, as the teachers before, he produced a list and went through roll call. All went as Harry expected, up to and including Snape reaching his name. "Ah yes, Harry Potter…our new _celebrity_."

He heard Draco snicker behind him, and looked back towards him with a flat stare. The blonde whelp immediately silenced, his eyes widening briefly at the silent threat Harry's stare uttered. Harry turned back to face Snape, who had seen all of the exchange and glowered down his long nose at The-Boy-Who-You-Shouldn't-Fuck-Around-With.

As Snape proceeded into his monologue about the merits of Potions, Harry silently recited his introductory speech word for word, not missing a beat of it. Midway through it, he smiled a bit as he imagined himself just behind Snape, pantomiming his theatrical gestures and maybe speaking to the skull of some dead king he knew well…or into a mirror. He bit back a snicker then, as the image of Snape practicing these excessive lines in a mirror in his quarters came to mind. He probably did do that, didn't he? In all of the memories he had of this man, he should know…there it was. He silently snickered one more. Oh, Snape was done talking.

"Gag unto me with a spoon." Harry heard Ron whisper.

"Potter!" Oh here we freaking go. Harry looked to his teacher with thinly disguised contempt. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry stared at Snape. "…You'd make a powerful sleeping potion known as 'Draught of Living Death'."

Snape paused, and every student looked at Harry, impressed. Hermione's hand descended partially as she stared at Harry in surprise. Okay, that was a minor setback, but the master of potions was not going to be toyed with. Snape knew about Potter, more than Potter knew–as far as he knew. "Where would you find a bezoar?"

"In the stomach of goats, it's a stone that can cure most poisons." Harry answered; he was indeed not going to be fucked with. A few impressed whispers sounded from his vicinity. Snape narrowed his eyes at him; this was not going quite as he'd envisioned it going.

"Very good, Potter. What is the difference between monkshood and wolfs bane?" He finally asked. Surely the boy would not have studied this…

"No difference, they're the same plant. They go by a third name…what was it…?" He looked to Hermione. "I can't remember."

Finally! Hermione quickly informed Harry. "Aconite, Harry."

Harry snapped his fingers. "Aconite, that's what it was. Thank you."

Snape stared at Harry, and turned away from him. "Very good, Potter. Five points to Gryffindor for answering the questions, but five points from Gryffindor for your cheek. As for the rest of you, I hope you're copying it down."

He whirled around dramatically, and stormed off towards his desk, and Harry mockingly copied the melodramatic gesture, prompting snickers from the Gryffindors and Slytherins nearest to him. When Snape turned back to glare at the source of the disruption, he found innocent students copying down what they'd learned from his and Harry's exchange.

The class went peacefully after that, with Harry even warning Neville to not put the porcupine quills into the cauldron before taken the potion they were mixing off the fire. In what turned out to be a Gryffindor first, the students left Snape's potions class with as many points coming out as they had going in. Ron was rather upbeat about it as he, and Hermione flanked him going up the stairs.

"We actually went through one of Snape's classes without losing any points!" He said cheerfully.

Hermione looked over. "We would've had more if Harry knew what Aconite was."

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Snape would've found a way to take the points away, anyway. I think breaking even is the best."

"Breaking even, huh?" Ron asked.

"It means finishing with what we started with." Hermione replied. "Harry is right about that, too."

"I know what it means! I'm not slow in the bloody head!" Ron snapped at them both.

"Well the way you said it!" Hermione shot back.

Harry smiled as the two bickered. As they reached the top of the steps, Hedwig came sweeping in, dropping a note to Harry. Capturing it, he opened it up and read its contents. Ron looked over. "What is that, Harry?"

"Just an invitation to tea with Hagrid, you two want to come?" Harry asked both, who looked to one another before shrugging their shoulders and accepting. So they went, and the tea was tasty, the rock cake not so much, and Harry got to read the morning paper. Yes, things were coming along smoothly.

* * *

Almost a week later, came the first flying lesson, and first years from Gryffindor and Slytherin were gathered in the courtyard, as Madam Hooch, who Harry thought was crazy, was preparing to instruct the students on how to handle their brooms. She walked up and down the line, as everyone stood by their brooms. "Alright, everything is in order here. I want you all to hold your hand over your broom and command 'Up!' it should hop right into your hand."

A chorus of "UP!" ensued, with most students capturing their brooms quickly in hand. Hermione, nervous at the prospect of flying watched her broom roll away, while Neville couldn't get it up at all. Harry captured his broom and smartly twirled it before securing it in his grip, prompting a chiding look from Hooch although she said nothing.

Once Hermione and Neville succeeded in getting their brooms in hand, all were quickly instructed on how to mount them, and soon enough the inevitable occurred as Neville's nerves got the best of him and he floated off.

"Oh, oh no, help!" He cried out as he ascended into the air.

"Get back down here!" Before Madam Hooch could get on her broom to retrieve him, Neville did exactly as told in the most expedient fashion. Everyone winced and looked away as he hit the ground with a painful-sounding crack from his hand.

"Oh, hands don't bend that way." Ron said as he looked away. Hermione looked down at her broom, and suddenly felt safer walking through Somalia in a two-piece bathing suit than on it.

"Yes, it's broken." Hooch said as she helped Neville up. "I'm going to take him to the infirmary. You all keep those brooms where they are until I get back, or you'll be out of Hogwarts faster than you can say Quidditch!"

No sooner had they left, when Draco let out a sharp, derisive laugh. "Did you see the look on his face when he fell? What a lump!"

Before Harry Potter could ask if he needed to choke a bitch, Parvati Patil came to Neville's defense. "Shut up, Malfoy, like you could ride a broom perfectly your first time."

"As a matter of fact, I could. I am a prodigy on the broom." Draco replied.

"Ooh, are we sticking up for the Longbottom? I never thought you'd be one for fat little crybabies." Sneered Pansy Parkinson, another bitch that Harry felt he was going to have to choke.

Before Parvati could lay into the Slytherin girl with the worst insult any woman could muster towards another, Draco picked up something off the ground. Harry frowned; sure enough it was the Remembrall that Neville's Grandmother had mailed to him earlier in the morning. "Look at this; it's that stupid thing the squib's grandmother sent him!"

It was time to step in. "Give that back, Malfoy." Harry warned as he walked over.

Draco actually took a step back as he was approached, but then stood his ground when he saw his housemates watching and smiled nastily.

"Don't worry, Potter, I'm just going to put it in a safe place for him. Perhaps up in a tree?" He suggested.

"I said give that back!" Harry yelled at Draco as he rushed for the Remembrall. In a flash, Draco was aloft, swiftly reaching treetop level and staring down mockingly at Harry.

"If you want it, come and get it, Potter!" He taunted as he tossed the Remembrall to himself, nearly dropping it. "Oh, whoops! That would've been bad luck, poor Neville."

Harry picked up a broom, and Hermione immediately protested. "Harry, don't do it! You'll get us all in trouble!"

"It'll be fine, I won't get caught." Harry mounted the broom. Immediately, he kicked off and wobbled precariously as he ascended slowly. "I'm giving you a final warning, Malfoy!"

Draco laughed. "Oh, you're putting me on, Potter!" He howled as he closed his eyes and laughed, loudly enough to only just catch the shocked cries and gasps below too late. He felt something pass him at an amazing clip, and suddenly the Remembrall was gone from his hand. "Huh?"

He looked down. Had he dropped it? He then saw his classmates below staring dumbstruck up at him, or rather above and behind him. He slowly turned around, and nearly fell off his broom when he saw Harry hovering above him, tossing the Remembrall to himself with a depraved smile on his face.

"You're right, I was." Harry said as he held up the Remembrall. He puttered past Draco, holding it out close enough for the stunned Slytherin to grab it if he wanted to, before he pulled away and looked at it. It was glowing red. "Oh, I almost forgot."

He suddenly hurled the Remembrall towards the school, and to the amazement and delight of most of the students on the ground, he shot after it in pursuit, following the sphere to the ground and catching it not a foot off it, before sweeping into a climb inches away from the wall and ascending high above the school.

"Whoa…" Ron breathed as Harry looped up and over the class and dismounted just before hitting the ground, landing in a walk over to him and Hermione. "That was unbelievable!"

Hermione just stared at Harry, her expression reflecting both awe and a little fright. "How did you do that?" She asked.

Harry tossed the crystal ball to himself. "I guess I'm a prodigy on the broom too." He replied as he tossed it again.

"HARRY POTTER!" He nearly dropped the Remembrall when Professor McGonagall roared after him, but narrowly caught it. He whirled around to face the strict Scotswoman, and immediately raised a façade a fright.

"Never in my time at Hogwarts…" The teacher said, as she looked him over, "…Have I seen such reckless flying…"

Parvati immediately spoke in Harry's defense. "It wasn't his fault Profess–."

"Silence, Miss Patil." McGonagall warned.

"But Malfoy, he…!" Ron was pointing at the grounded Slytherin, who was with his cronies Crabbe and Goyle and marveling at Harry's humiliation.

"That will be unnecessary Mr. Weasley. Potter, you will follow me right away." She cut him off, and then marched away, leading a silent Harry behind her. The moment both had departed, Draco snorted.

"It serves him right, the show-off." He said with a mocking smile aimed at the Gryffindor students.

Seamus Finnigan, the token Irish kid in Gryffindor, just let out a laugh at that moment, and folded his arms. "It sure does! I know a Seeker when I see one!"

Ron paused, and looked over at Seamus. "A Seeker, what are you saying, Seamus?"

"I'm saying," The boy replied, "That after witnessing that kind of broom flying, Professor McGonagall would be batty to even think about giving him detention, let alone expel him."

The smile fell right off Draco's face and broke into pieces on the ground, as Ron's brows raised and he smiled himself. "You're right, she would, wouldn't she?"

Hermione, who had as limited exposure to Quidditch and broom flying as any other muggle-born student outside of books, looked between the two boys in confusion. "So he's not in trouble?"

"No, if you consider Gryffindor's Quidditch record in the last couple of years since Charlie left," Which Hermione did given that she read about it, "McGonagall's hurting for something to change the game for the team. Harry just showed off some Pro-Level flying just now, he pushed one of these rickety school brooms like it was a Nimbus 2000 and didn't even break a sweat."

The Irishman chuckled. "Why, I bet that she's introducing Harry to the Captain of the Quidditch Team right now and he's praising every wizard from Merlin to Gandalf."

"That's rubbish, I don't believe it!" Draco immediately protested.

Hermione let out a sigh, as Ron and some other Gryffindors began to taunt Draco, mostly thanking him for discovering such an excellent Quidditch player. She looked over towards the direction Harry went off to, and felt a stirring sense of déjà vu as she stared at the castle. She ignored it as a trick of the mind and went on her way.

* * *

It wasn't until dinner that anyone saw Harry again, and by then the rumor mill had been going both ways until he nonchalantly confirmed it at the table.

"You're probably the youngest player in over a hundred years!" Ron exclaimed, brimming with excitement. Across the Great Hall, some Slytherins were gathered around the end of one of their tables, making a fuss about it. Hermione noticed the fuss, and frowned when she saw most of the looks among the students were directed at the back of Harry's head.

She tried to ignore it. "You're playing Seeker, too. That's probably the most important position on the team…"

Suddenly two shadows fell over him, and he was yanked into a headlock by George, as Fred dropped down next to him.

"Congratulations on joining the team, Harry." Fred said.

George gave him a Tonks-like noogie. "Yes, we've just heard the good news from the Captain. With your flying, I'm sure we'll win the Quidditch Cup this year."

"We haven't won a single game since Charlie left, and from how McGonagall and Wood have been acting like schoolgirls, you're a better flyer than him." Fred finished.

Harry escaped George as he often escaped Tonks, with a swift punch to the gut, before shoving him away. "Thanks, you guys."

"So, inquiring minds want to know, who taught you to broom?" George asked after a quick cough.

Harry gave a smile. "Nymphet Tonks taught me how to fly."

Both recoiled, as did every student at the table from second year up. Together they exclaimed. "YOU KNOW NYMPHADORA TONKS!"

Somewhere far away, Nymphadora Tonks sneezed, inadvertently turning her Mad-Eyed teacher into a Gecko. She cursed aloud.

At the High Table, Pomona Sprout winced when she heard the invocation of Hufflepuff's most notorious student, Flitwick, McGonagall, and Snape shared reactions from amusement to downright annoyance. Hagrid chuckled, he loved that girl's wild antics–they were much more tolerable than Fred and George's–while Dumbledore just smiled his usual smile.

Harry chuckled a bit, still surprised by Tonks' notoriety. "I've known her for years; she's like a big sister to me."

A big sister who snuck in through his bedroom window, helped him pull pranks on his neighborhood, and once turned a Dursley family cookout into an impromptu fireworks display that brought in every fire department for sixty miles to their doorstep. If Sirius had any inkling to what his young cousin and godson had been getting up to these past few years…he'd probably be depressed for not being able to take part.

Before more questions could be asked about Harry's supposed past with Tonks, a group of Slytherins made their way over and looked like they meant business. There was Draco, trying to look smug as he hid behind bigger and louder people, his bookends, and Pansy already trying to make herself look good by being in the presence of a Malfoy. Leading the pack however was…Marcus Flint?

"Potter, you think you're a big man for a first year." This was new and unexpected. Harry just let out a hum requesting clarification. "Already on the Quidditch team, are you Gryffindor muggles hurting that much for talent that you have to beg any baby who doesn't crash on his first flight to join?"

Fred and George looked to one another, and craftily decided to avoid a confrontation. While both could easily bring down Flint a peg or two and they had both on and off the pitch with gusto (it explained his ruined teeth), they refrained from being baited into a shouting match. Revenge always tasted better cold.

"Ah, so you heard." Harry said. He was quite calm in the face of the insult.

Marcus grinned, showing off his hideous teeth. "I sure did, you're the talk of the school. I wouldn't get too worried if I were you, your first game won't last very long."

"It might just be your last." Draco teased, as Crabbe and Goyle of course laughed.

Pansy added to the teasing, because she wanted to be popular. "I bet he'll wet himself the moment he gets out there." She said, despite having been impressed by his display out there.

The crowding had drawn the attention of other Slytherins and Gryffindors, creating a much tenser atmosphere than Harry last recalled. When he glanced over towards the High Table, sure enough he found the Professors watching, but at Dumbledore's unconcerned observation none seemed compelled to break it up. Good job there, Albus, leave Harry to take care of it himself. Turning his attention from his surroundings, Harry sighed and got up before Marcus…and extended his hand.

"Excuse me but we haven't been introduced. My name is Harry Potter, but you obviously know that. What would your name be?" He asked politely.

Looking down at the hand of The-Boy-Who-You-REALLY-Shouldn't-Fuck-Around-With, Marcus made his first mistake of the night by refusing to shake Harry's hand. "I'm Marcus Flint, Slytherin Quidditch Captain."

Harry looked down at his empty hand, and back up to Marcus' face. "Well, Marcus Flint, Slytherin Quidditch Captain that was kind of rude of you. Draco was polite enough to shake my hand, as limp as his wrist was."

Draco flared in anger. "What did you say, Potter!"

"I said you have a limp wrist." Harry clarified.

"You…!" Draco went for his wand.

Marcus stopped him, and decided to use some good old fashioned "I'm bigger than you so I can beat you up" physical intimidation on Harry. "I don't shake the hands of little boys I'm about to knock out of the sky."

Harry appeared unimpressed, and to the amazement of the Gryffindors around him, maintained his polite composure. "Any man who goes out of his way to boast of his prowess is unsure of it."

A soft "ooh" radiated amidst the other children, confirming that Marcus Flint was in dire need of a visit to the burn ward. He grew angry. "You little shit, where you get off talking nonsense like that to me?"

"I read it from a book." Harry replied, still unwavering, still excellently firm in his stance. Ron looked over to Hermione, who was looking quite anxious at the prospect of a fight breaking out.

Marcus sneered. "Cheeky brat, acting like you're high and mighty. If it weren't for your name you'd be nothing."

"I'd prefer the obscurity." Harry said as he gestured to two of his housemates. "I would much rather be Neville or Ron here, than Harry Potter. You see, there's a muggle term you're probably unfamiliar with."

He stared pointedly at Marcus. "It's always the quiet ones."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Marcus asked, before he caught on. "Oh, so you really think you're a big man then, Potter?"

Draco glared at Harry, daring him to try to be lippy any more than he was. Harry didn't even give a second thought towards the blonde's direction, seeing where this went was suddenly too interesting to worry about Draco. "I will not boast about my prowess."

"Then show me." Marcus said with a grin. "I challenge you to a duel."

Ron looked over to Harry, already tempted to jump in and assist him, moved by his calm demeanor. Around him more shocked students murmured among themselves, but none were more shocked than Hermione, who quickly got up and tried to assert herself in the situation. Dumbledore watched this with particular interest. "Now hold on, you can't just have a fight like this, it's against the rules!"

Marcus looked at her, and immediately recognized her. Swiftly, he made his second mistake of the night. "Nobody asked you, you bucktoothed mudblood."

Hermione recoiled, a gasp escaping her lips at the sheer venom Marcus spat with his insult. Laughter followed from the Slytherins that grew louder with the indignant responses from their Gryffindor counterparts.

George and Fred, ever the defenders of the younger, were ready to grab Marcus and commence a melee, when Harry suddenly stepped to Marcus, closing the distance between them frighteningly quick and silencing everyone. Draco and Pansy, who had been smirking and chuckling haughtily at the tears ready to spill down Hermione's face, froze when they saw the look on Harry's.

It was just like on the train, all traces of warmth and life had disappeared, replaced by a powerful cold that seemed to age him, and project a frightening menace. "Excuse me, but could you care to repeat what you just said?"

Draco couldn't understand why he felt afraid, as he watched Potter. Marcus, though disturbed by Harry's sudden loss of composure, was confident that Harry was a little bitch. He leaned down, his face inches from Potter's as he reiterated slowly. "I called her a bucktoothed mudblood. Got a hearing problem, Potter?"

Ron was pissed. "Why you…"

"Midnight, you meet me at the Quidditch Pitch and bring your broom." Harry said to Marcus suddenly. "If you're not there, I will find you."

Ron stood up. "I'll be Harry's second. Who's yours?"

"Malfoy will be mine." Marcus said, as he turned and walked away. "See you out there, Potter. C'mon Slytherins, let's not muck around and get Gryffindor's stink all over us."

As the other boys' House retreated, Harry relaxed from his fury. Draco looked back, glaring at Potter, while Pansy had a different, much more surprised expression on her face that she quickly covered with a sneer when she was caught. Fred and George whistled simultaneously, never had they seen a first year go eye to eye with a fifth year like that before.

"Fantastic, Potter." George said.

Fred nodded. "I give it a ten out of ten."

Hermione however was not happy. "Y-you didn't have to do that for me, you know!" She complained, hurting very much from the insult and the laughter.

Harry sighed. "Since I've grown up, I've always been a freak, a mutant, or a vermin. I've actually gotten quite used to it; it goes in one ear and out the other. But I don't like it when people hurt others just because they can."

He turned to face her. "I especially don't like it if my friends are the ones being hurt, and I consider you a friend."

It was so corny, but Hermione smiled and her cheeks turned pink. "If you really mean that, then…thank you, Harry."

Harry smiled back to Hermione, and then reached up to clap a hand on her shoulder. "Think nothing of it, Hermione."

* * *

Dinner ended, and the students were on their way up to their houses for bed. Urging Ron and Hermione to go on ahead, he allowed himself to fall behind the crowd, and the last of the students were just out of sight when a voice called from an adjacent shadow.

"You're not going to go see the Cerberus?" It asked.

Harry shook his head. "I already know it's there, it's a waste of time."

"I see. Be careful with what you're doing here, Potter. You're about to make a very serious change. Anything can happen here." The voice warned.

The speaker was right, and it gave Harry pause. Considering it, however, he decided he was going to stay the course. "Things are going to change eventually, I'd rather enjoy them. Besides…Marcus Flint is inconsequential."

"Only time will be able to tell." Harry looked towards the shadow, and sure enough the owner of the voice was gone. He was quite surprised. He shook his head, and made his way up the stairs.

"I think I'm going insane." He muttered.

* * *

A/N: Who is that spooky mysterious voice? Ooooh...so mysterious...


	4. Book 1: The Duelists

Disclaimer: Rail against the fandom and leave them in ruin

**HI-POWER: Harry Is Pissed Off With Everyone's Rubbish**

The Duelists

_Fight for the Honor, Fight for the Pleasure._

**[3.]**

At quarter to eleven, Harry checked the clock and slipped from his bed. Looking past the other beds, he found Ron patiently waiting by the door, having snuck over a few moments earlier to test if everyone was asleep. Quietly, he produced a large black bag and got up. With a silent nod to one another, both boys quietly exited the chambers and stole for the exit, leading a silent trail down to the Common Room. As Harry had expected, there was Hermione waiting in a chair in the low light, sitting in her bathrobe.

"You're actually going through with this." She whispered.

Ron rolled his eyes and whispered harshly to her. "Hey, go back to bed!"

"I'm coming with you." She plainly said, and both Ron and Harry paused. "I don't want us to get in trouble, but after what he called me…"

Harry quickly nodded. "Then okay, you can come along. Just don't make too much noise; we have to get right out onto the pitch."

Ron went slack in relief, for a moment he thought she was going to do something stupid like nag at them, or run off and tell his brother. With that out of the way, he could go back to worrying about being caught on their way out to, or during the duel. Plus one Hermione, the party stepped through the portrait that served as their entry into Gryffindor, and began the trek to the Quidditch pitch.

The walk was already a long one, but now felt much longer when you had to be quiet and even the slightest noise or movement in the shadows made you stop. Stepping into unknown territory was kind of a thrill for Harry; he knew from the start he'd be wandering off the beaten path and seeing how far he could go before everything went out of control. While Fluffy slept upstairs, he was exploring the possibilities.

_"This is fun."_He thought to himself.

"Thank you, both of you." Hermione whispered.

"You already did." Ron whispered back.

"W-well, I'm very grateful." Hermione was rather harsh in response. Harry glanced back at her, and then to the path ahead. They were outside and almost to the pitch. No sign of Filch and/or Norbert, were the Slytherins really out there?

Speaking of them, Harry looked ahead as he called for Hermione. "That's not the first time's anyone called you that, isn't it?"

"What, mudblood?" Hermione sighed. "No, when I first found out I was a witch and needed my things in Diagon Alley I was waiting to be fitted for my robes when I met a girl younger than me. We started talking, and when she found out I was going to Hogwarts she and I hit it off quickly."

"Then what happened?" Ron asked.

Hermione sighed. "Well, her mother noticed us talking and she began conversing with my parents. The very second they mentioned they were muggles, she stormed over and yanked her daughter away from me mid-sentence, calling me a 'disgusting mudblood'."

Ron made a face. "That's horrid."

Harry was in full agreement. "Some people are the worst…" The pitch came into view. "…Case in point."

Floating on his broom beneath the moonlight, Marcus waited for Harry. He had to hand it to the Slytherin; quite unlike Draco here he was ready to dance. This was exciting.

"There he is…" Ron murmured.

Harry took the bag off his shoulder and set it down. "He's probably been there for a while now to get used to the dark, too."

Ron gulped. "Then this is bad, I can barely see my hand in front of my face."

"Try closing your eyes and counting to ten, it'll improve your visual acuity." Hermione instructed before noticing Harry delve into his bag. "Harry, what's that?"

Harry slipped something into his pocket. "I'm not coming unprepared."

His prudence still got a wary look from Hermione, who felt she was suddenly in over her head more than she knew she was. Ron joined Harry's side and peered into the bag of The-Boy-Who-Was-Eerily-Prepared. It was too dark for him to see exactly what was what.

Harry gave Ron a smile and then removed his glasses to don a bulky set of goggles he rested atop his head. Hermione recognized them immediately, but Ron of course was in the dark. "What are those?"

Picking up one of the brooms that had been left for them by Marcus, Harry climbed on and lifted off the ground. "They're proof that Muggles are an ingenious lot."

Ron nodded, and climbed onto his own broom. As Hermione bit her lip in consternation, both first years up and over the pitch, Ron clumsily (he was a novice after all) struggling to keep close as Harry crossed over the stands and approached Marcus, who regarded them both with a large grin. When Harry looked down, he saw why.

"Half of Slytherin must be down there in the stands!" Ron exclaimed when he saw the robed figures on the seats.

"They all want to see me fall." Harry said before Draco suddenly cut in front of him.

"Right again, Potter." He sneered as he came around and circled with Marcus in front of the two. "I'm surprised you two didn't chicken out."

"I could say the same for you." Harry said with a dangerous smile as he and Ron came to a hover, allowing both Slytherins to circle them. "A lot of you sure did come out."

Marcus spoke up. "That's because everyone wants to see 'The Great Harry Potter' learn there are two kinds of students in this school, Slytherins and then the trash. There are no exceptions."

He then produced a Snitch, and held it for Potter to see, its wings beating frantically as it tried to escape his grip. "This is a proper duel, Seconds don't interfere. The first to get the Snitch wins."

"I agree." Harry replied. "Be careful Marcus, it's dangerous out here at night."

"I know it'll be, for you." He let the Snitch go, and after a three count surged forward, roughly shoving past Harry and Ron as he pursued the Snitch at high speed. Draco was polite enough to pass wide around them to shadow Marcus from above.

Down in the stands, the Slytherins were all atwitter at Marcus shoving aside Potter in pursuit of the dancing, twirling snitch. The Slytherin Quidditch Team, Draco's thugs Crabbe and Goyle, and several first year girls including Pansy provided jeers lobbed up towards Harry as Marcus fell out of sight.

"Ha! Look at him go, Captain can do this blindfolded if he wanted!" Peregrine Derrick boasted of the team captain, despite being unable to see his pursuit if the Snitch in the dark.

Daphne Greengrass–one of Pansy's roommates–laughed as she pointed up at Harry. "He's not even moving!"

"I told you, he's scared out of his mind." Pansy added.

"Come on, Harry Potter! Why don't you put on some of that fancy flying you did earlier?" Terrence Higgs railed at Harry.

Down hidden on the opposite stands, Hermione bit her lower lip as she watched Harry just float there between Ron and Draco, taking all of his time in the world. "Harry…"

Up in the air, Draco sneered at Harry, who reached up and pulled the goggles over his eyes. "What are those?"

Harry looked over to Draco, as a green glow suddenly emitted from the lenses of his night-vision goggles. "It's magic. Ron, watch my back."

And just like that he dropped out of the sky in front of both Draco and Ron, plunging into the darkness below. The Slytherins in the stand fell silent when Harry suddenly disappeared from sight, and began searching the sky and the ground below.

"Where did he go?" Peregrine asked.

Tracy Davis scanned the ground. "I bet he fell off his broom…"

Far below, and just above the empty pitch, Marcus was all smiles as he swiftly closed in on the Snitch, making fine adjustments in his approach as he neared it. While he was no Seeker, he was Team Captain for a reason. The Snitch was as good as his, and he said as much as he reached out to grasp the device.

Then suddenly, a blur passed between him and the snitch, and he quickly veered off. Looking over, he went wide eyed as he saw Harry suddenly turn into a climb, rushing straight for the Snitch fast as his broom could take him. Not to be intimidated–in fact the display only enraged him–Marcus gave in to the thrill of the sport, rushing and nearly checking Harry clear of the Snitch. Harry dodged, but the Snitch had decided to dash off in another direction.

Marcus immediately checked his airspace; Harry was suddenly outside his field of view. "Potter!"

The movement of the Snitch caught his eyes and he was after it. However, as soon as he dove for it, Harry streaked past, having lunged ahead clean out of his blind spot to make the grab. The skillful maneuver threw him off so badly, he didn't even realize he was running out of pitch until he crashed into the stands, tumbling off his broom and over the benches to the shock of his teammates.

"The bloody Hell…?" Draco uttered, dumbfounded by Marcus, the team captain, being out-flown into the terrain by Harry. Ron whistled and then laughed.

"It serves him right." He said, and caught a nasty glare from Draco for it.

Groaning, Marcus got back up and turned around to find Harry staring down at him smugly, with his goggles up atop his had. "The Snitch is out there, Captain. Get up, or do I have to win this duel by myself?"

"You…!" Harry then swiftly turned around, smacking him across the face with his broom. "Ugh!"

"There it goes!" Harry called out, chasing after the Snitch into the dark. On the ground Hermione, whose eyes had adjusted enough for her to see the hit, held a hand to her mouth and smiled.

"Who the Hell does he think he is?" Peregrine yelled.

"Kick his arse!" Lucian Bole yelled to Marcus as he mounted his broom and took off in pursuit. The girls in the stand were much more impressed by Harry's skill, and had lightened up from their verbal assault somewhat.

Racing after the pitch with night-vision active, Harry looked back to see Marcus quickly gaining on him. When he saw the older student suddenly whip out his wand, Harry's brows quirked and he shook his head. This was going to be Marcus Flint's third and probably biggest mistake–second only to the Mudblood comment. Seeing him flick his wand and announce a hex, Harry suddenly changed direction to avoid the blast.

Hermione saw it plain as day on the ground. "Harry!"

"What? He's using his wand!" Ron yelled out.

Draco got in his way before he could draw his own and dive in. "There was never anything in the rules about not using magic." Ron gritted his teeth, and lowered his wand, as Draco gave off a haughty smirk. Potter was done for now, Marcus was going to cut that creep down to size.

Harry dodged another hex, and quickly sped up to evade another. Marcus was right behind him, laughing. "What's the matter Potter, scared? Or did you forget your wand?"

All he had to do was knock him off his broom, and then it'd be a simple matter of recalling the Snitch to him. He fired another spell, trying to lead Harry, but through some unearthly agility, Harry pushed the school issue broom to evade the spell and rush into a spiraling climb that Marcus pursued him in. He could see him clearly in the moonlight now; there was no way he could get out of his sights now.

"I've got you now!" Marcus took careful aim and fired off the hex, striking a glancing blow that knocked Harry mostly off his broom. His housemates below broke into cheers, while Hermione covered her mouth, aghast.

"HARRY!" Ron yelled as Harry, clinging onto his broom with one hand, began to fall. Draco let out a haughty sniff.

As Harry fell, however, he pointed the broom downward and straight for Marcus. Lowering his wand to watch the young wizard fall, Marcus went wide-eyed when he realized Harry was falling straight for him. It was too late to raise his wand to defend, and Harry quickly drew something from his pocket with his free hand to slam into Marcus' gut. Suddenly, fifty-thousand volts was coursing through the fifth year student's body.

"You're not worth wasting magic on." Harry said coldly as he continued to apply the Taser to Marcus before tightening his hold on his broom to stop himself. His body still convulsing from the shock, Marcus crashed through the canopy of a tree, and fell through its branches before crashing to the ground beneath it.

Draco and Ron, in full view of it all, just stared in silence. All the spectators on the ground saw was one figure plunge into the other, both fall as one mass, and then one separate and continue on into a tree outside of the Pitch. Right away, Ron reached Harry's side as he hauled himself up onto his broom with little difficulty.

"Harry…what on Earth happened?" Ron asked.

Harry shrugged his shoulders as he pushed his goggles up and began his descent. "I guess I crashed into him after he knocked me off my broom. I'm going to go check on him."

Holding on tight to his broom, Harry descended to the ground before dismounting, and walked over to Marcus. As he walked over, he noticed the older boy's wand lying on the ground and stepped on it, snapping it into pieces beneath his foot. Marcus lay broken and twisted at the foot of the tree, surrounded by several heavy branches that cushioned his fall enough to save his life at the cost of heavy injury.

"You really tried to kill me just now." Harry said to him as he stood over him. Marcus looked up at him, his face cut and bleeding with bruises already beginning to form as he groaned in pain. Harry stared at him, his eyes widening as the hand holding the crackling Taser began to tremble. "To think, all of this because you called Hermione a…what was it again?"

Marcus tried to speak, but all that came out was a groan. Harry's eyes narrowed as he smiled a bit. "Oh, your jaw must be broken, among other things."

He grabbed his wrist, seizing his shaking hand. Ron landed with him, and recoiled at the sight of the damage done to Marcus. "Bloody Hell…"

"It looks like your Quidditch playing is over with." Harry then looked down at the wand he stepped upon. "Your wand's broken too. I suppose that's the price of recklessly firing off hexes at people."

Marcus tried to moan a "What did you do to me?" at Potter, but between shattered limbs, his fractured jaw, and the pain of numerous other injuries, he only gurgled. His pain only became worse when Harry knelt down and roughly hoisted him up to carry him back out onto the pitch.

"Someone's coming out!" Pansy called as the figures emerged from the darkness. Draco landed on the ground before the stands, his eyes wide and shock written over his face. The other Slytherins likewise began to stare as Harry brought Marcus over to Draco, turned around, and let him roll off his back onto the ground at his feet.

"Marcus!" Terrence yelled out as he and the rest of the Quidditch Team spilled from their seats, quickly using cushioning charms to aid their landing onto the Pitch below. Drawing his own wand, Peregrine aimed it at Potter as he stormed over.

"You little bastard, what did you do to him?" He stopped short of actually flinging a curse at him when Harry suddenly pointed his own wand at him, his eyes focused with an ill-intent that appeared so many years beyond him. The other Slytherins stopped, and even Ron took a step back at the speed and precision of Harry's draw.

_"I didn't even see his hand…"_Hermione realized in shock from where she watched, now unwilling to go anywhere near that scene with so many Slytherins out.

"He knocked me off my broom, and I fell on him." Harry said in a dead calm. "It's what he deserves for flinging hexes at people while on a broom."

He lowered his wand, and turned to Ron. "Let's get out of here."

"Y-yeah!" Ron, in an 'Oh Crap' mode, was quick to rush off ahead of Harry to get Hermione and get her out of there. As he followed, Harry stopped and turned back to look at the silenced students of Slytherin House.

"However…if I hear any of you utter that word again, Mudblood, what I will do to you will make what happened to Marcus preferable." He threatened in a commandingly level voice, again beyond his years. He turned to continue, but stopped again. "Oh, by the way…"

Reaching into his pocket, he produced the Snitch, and tossed it to Peregrine. "I'm going to bed. Good night, Malfoy, Slytherins."

Peregrine caught the Snitch, and stared down at it like Harry had casually plucked someone's eyeball out and handed it to him. Draco looked down at Marcus, and then towards Harry's retreating figure, and felt a very real fear run through his veins, cooling the heat of exertion from broom flying. All of the Slytherin boys looked to one another, and sharing the same expression of fear and confusion, before turning to their fallen Captain and rushing him to Madam Pomfrey.

As the Gryffindor Trio joined, Ron let out a long whistle. "Harry, remind me to never make you mad."

Harry managed a small smile, as he looked down at the hand he hit Marcus with, it was still trembling slightly. "Ron, you'd never have to worry about that."

Hermione just kept staring at Harry, as though in shock. She was completely unsure of what to say to him, or of what just happened. When they retired to their beds, only Ron slept easily.

* * *

News of the duel traveled fast through both houses thanks to Ron and the Slytherin witnesses, and by breakfast in the Great Hall it was the talk of the student body that Harry Potter had utterly demolished Marcus Flint in an incredible aerial contest. Harry walked away with hardly a scratch on him, while Marcus had two broken legs, a shattered arm, three broken ribs, and a fractured jaw. None of the Slytherins who'd allegedly witnessed the duel were willing to say a word about the circumstances, but Marcus's alleged "Mudblood" comment preceding this disaster to the Slytherin Quidditch Team brought Harry to the office of Severus Snape, joined by Professor McGonagall.

Harry glanced towards McGonagall, who had fielded her own questions and got the answers he'd prepared for Snape. He had to admit, seeing him calm as he was despite the circumstances was kind of frightening, but he knew better about this man. Hiding his emotions beneath a veneer of perpetual disdain and low temperature fury was practically the hallmark of Severus Snape.

He purposefully kept his gaze unfocused, avoiding eye contact with Snape even as he looked back toward him. Even as he began to speak, he could feel the probe of Legilimency searching his thoughts for lies. "Interesting is it not, that Mr. Flint sustains his injuries after conversing with you and your friends, Potter?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "He shouldn't have been flying on a broom at night. It's hard to tell what you're doing."

Snape narrowed his scowl at Harry. "The same could be said to you, Potter. Flying at night–particularly pursuing a Snitch–is a highly dangerous endeavor."

Harry nodded, McGonagall's same words on the subject were much more vehement…and there were a lot more of them. "No one, none of my students, or the witnesses Professor McGonagall interviewed, can claim they saw exactly what happened to Mr. Flint; all they have told me is that 'you fell from your broom and onto him'."

His scowl turned down the air temperature a few degrees. "Potter, if I find that you willingly assaulted another student with intent to cause grievous bodily harm then I'm afraid you'll have much more to worry about than a chance to make history on the pitch this year."

Again, Harry nodded, before speaking. "I challenged Marcus to a duel involving broom flying, yes. He chose chasing after a Snitch, and I agreed to it." He spoke, and Snape tensed. However, the head of Slytherin allowed him to continue. "When it became apparent I was better on the broom than him, he attacked me with his wand and almost knocked me from it. Before I could regain control, it was too late and I fell on him."

Snape nodded slowly. "A duel, you said it was?" Harry watched him carefully, gauging his reaction to this news as he continued. "And on what grounds would you even consider engaging a student years your senior to a duel?"

"You heard it yourself. He called one of my friends a 'Bucktoothed Mudblood'." The edge to his reply, tense with restrained anger, and direct eye-contact delivered his response perfectly to Snape, whose own eyes widened considerably. The probing of Legilimency eased to nothing, and Snape relaxed…as much as Snape was known to.

McGonagall looked from Harry to Snape, knowing well of his aversion of that term. Snape folded his hands in front of him. "Professor McGonagall, I recommend taking thirty points from Gryffindor for violating curfew, ten for each of the violators."

She nodded. "What about Mr. Flint?"

"Seeing as many more of my students were present past curfew, I will have to reprimand them as severely. I think Mr. Flint, however, has been punished enough. You may leave."

Alright, McGonagall had meant what about Harry in regards to Marcus, but it would have appeared that Snape had spoken. Nodding, she turned for the door as Harry rose from his seat. "Hurry along, Mr. Potter."

"Yes ma'am." Harry gave a parting look over his shoulder at Snape as he left. The man looked haunted; it was strange to see it in person.

When he reached the Great Hall for lunch, he found the atmosphere much the same as it had been for breakfast, with all eyes falling on him as he walked in. It was definitely weird to be at the center of all this attention, but Harry felt good in it. There was fear, a lot of fear, especially from the Slytherin tables, but the other tables it was mixed with other emotions, ranging from curiosity and intrigue to excitement from his own table, especially among the Quidditch Players.

He smiled at his earned notoriety, and went to sit with the others. Ron didn't hesitate to greet Harry with a big smile. "Hey Harry! The Slytherins are still looking at you like you just killed a man!"

Harry laughed. "I know. It serves them right." He looked back, and saw that even Draco looked like he was ready to faint when he was singled out among the students. Harry turned back and smiled to Hermione. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, I did…" She skittishly lied as he turned to start eating. "What about you?"

"Great." He lied, and Hermione could see that. A small, awkward silence fell between them before she spoke.

"Thank you, again…"

Harry looked at her. He had a feeling she was going to be thanking him for a lot of things. "Hermione, you've already thanked me like twice."

She blushed, and then laughed nervously before turning back to her food. "Where did you get those night-vision goggles from?" She asked.

Ron looked. "Night-what goggles?"

Harry smiled, Hermione was a smart one. "They're gift from my uncle."

"Your uncle, the same uncle you live with?" Ron asked.

His smile growing, Harry nodded. "Like I said, we share a lot of interest in muggle things."

"So how do these night-vision goggles work?" Ron asked, very curious now. Several other wizards at the table caught ear of it.

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know the precise science, but muggles use them to amplify light in dark places. It was really handy in keeping up with the Snitch."

"Sneaky! I didn't know muggles could see in the dark!" Ron replied.

"They can do a lot of things…" Harry replied. There were things that even amazed him, when he learned about them. Frightened him, too, he was glad that Voldemort was as ignorant of the muggle world as everyone else seemed to be. The firepower of muggles was definitely that which he knew not.

Before anymore discussion could go on about it, Neville sat down with them, looking upset. "Hello," Hermione quickly said, "Is something wrong Neville? You look bothered by something."

"Yes, while you guys were off having an adventure, I forgot the password to get back into the tower. I spent the entire night sleeping on the floor, how could you not have seen me there? I would've liked to go back in so I could sleep!" He griped at them.

Forgot? Wait a minute. Harry quickly smiled. "Oh, Neville, I just remembered!"

Neville stopped. "What?" Harry then reached under the table, and produced Neville's Remembrall. "My Remembrall, you found it!"

Harry smiled. "I think this whole mess started over it." He handed it to him. "So I owe it to you for the good fortune."

His continued good fortune came in the form of a team of owls dropping the Nimbus 2000, but missing the table and landing it on his head. "Ow."

Ah yes, his broom had arrived, but with it two letters instead of one. Opening the one he knew was definitely not McGonagall's, Harry read it and smiled a bit at the message.

_Excellent show over the pitch, but I'd be a bit more careful next time were I you. There's no telling what will happen now._

As Ron and Neville marveled over the mysterious broom-shaped gift, Harry folded the message up and his smile grew.

_"Oh, I disagree."_

* * *

A/N: I like writing shorter chapters like this, they're fun.


	5. Book 1: Trolling

Disclaimer: OH MY GOOOOOOOOD

**HI-POWER: Harry Is Pissed Off With Everyone's Rubbish**  
Trolling

_I'm not trollin' -Boxxy  
_

**[4.]**

Pansy Parkinson was a stereotype, the poster child for the "mean-girl" who mocked that which she didn't like, spread and created gossip, and generally acted like a spoiled brat used to her status and family name getting whatever she desired with as little effort as possible–including academic credentials. She was a pureblood witch after all, and as a member of the finest house in Hogwarts, such power was expected to be hers. However, while she was able to use this power to her advantage to lazily skirt by academically to make up for perceived (actually readily apparent) intellectual failings, Pansy was not a mere spoiled fool.

Even at this young age, she recognized that it was not what you knew, but whom. Knowledge was second only to company, and that which you kept was a big factor on where you went in life. For that reason, Pansy ingratiated herself to Draco Malfoy right off the bat the second she found he was to be at Hogwarts with her, and in her house. The Malfoy family was powerful and prestigious after all, with even a place in the Ministry and wealth possibly second only to the Blacks. But recently, she'd begun to question herself.

Harry Potter, to quote some muggle-born students she overheard in the hallway, was "a stone cold badass"–which apparently inferred that he was worthy of admiration. She couldn't help but agree with that notion, after witnessing his flying that night and the subsequent utter defeat of Flint. But more than that, thanks to that very incident, nearly every male student in her house, between the first and fourth years, were deathly afraid of him.

It was understandable at least. This was The-Boy-Who-Lived, the one who killed Voldemort with no effort at all. Even those skeptics who saw it as a fluke, or thought little of the savior of the Wizarding World were silenced by Marcus' gross underestimation of the boy, and the devastating demolition of his ability to walk–let alone play Quidditch–for it. To command such fear was definitive power, greater than wealth and prestige.

Thus was Pansy's dilemma: Malfoy was no longer as sure a bet as she had hoped him to be, for of all the Slytherins he appeared to fear Potter the most. No other boy appeared to be willing to try to assert themselves or stand up to him except for Blaise Zabini, but he appeared more aloof to the fiasco than anything. Few of the upperclassmen were afraid of Potter and those and were completely indifferent to the situation all the same, with their difficult courses, and the girls…? Well, that was a whole other sordid tale.

Pansy needed to be on the cutting edge, to have the advantage socially–her ambition would allow her nothing less–but that led to the second half of her dilemma, namely one Hermione Granger. She was a muggle-born, and one of Harry's little clique along with that filthy Weasley boy. Even if Potter's half-blood status could be forgiven, he was still a blood traitor, and of course there was the fact that he was a Gryffindor student! To make any sort of approach would render her a pariah among the Slytherins, and possibly among other pure blood families. Even worse, what if The-Boy-Who-Was-Strangely-Captivating turned out to be an even bigger dud than Draco? After all, he might have beaten Voldemort by pure luck. No one knew for sure.

What was an up and coming witch to do? She had to see more, and if she liked what she saw, maybe she could chance it. In Pansy's heart of hearts, though, the prospect of Harry Potter being the real deal excited her.

Harry blew his nose noisily into a tissue supplied to him by Hermione as they made their way to Professor Flitwick's class. This sneezing when people thought or talked about you strongly thing Tonks told him about was a curse, and damn it he was going to find a cure for it or die trying. With a strong sniff, he shook his head and tossed the crumpled up tissue away.

* * *

"Bloody allergies, it's too late in the fall for this." Harry lamented aloud to his friends before he shoved some food into his mouth.

"Actually," Hermione noted as Harry stopped to sneeze again, "Ragweed and mold are two common culprits for fall allergies."

"If this keeps up, I'm going to get some allergy medication." Harry mumbled, his voice raised a pitch by his clogged nostrils. Hermione had to admit that he sounded funny like this. They reached class amongst the crowd and took their seats, from where they found that they'd be working on levitation and paired up accordingly.

"Hey, Potter." Harry's partner for the class was, as he remembered, Seamus Finnigan. "Heard the word going around that Slytherin's got themselves a new Seeker?"

"They do?" Harry looked at Seamus in surprise. No, it couldn't be. "Is it Malfoy?"

"The word among the upperclassmen is that because of Flint's mishap, the whole team's desperately trying to reorganize around Adrian Pucey, the replacement captain. His first order of business was to find a new Seeker, and he went straight to the first years to find some new blood. So, it might just be Malfoy."

"Malfoy is pretty good…" Harry noted.

"Yeah, but you're a hundred times better than that." Seamus replied. "So I wouldn't even worry about it."

It wasn't beating Draco Harry was concerned about. Cause and effect was a mistress most foul, and he underestimated her right out the gate. _"I beat up one idiot and suddenly I'm rivals on the pitch with Malfoy a year early. I concede that I messed up a bit on this."_

That didn't mean that this wasn't interesting though. By the fault of his own arrogance, he'd flipped fate off and fate hit back, now the ball was in his court again. Or so he convinced himself. In fact, Harry was excited by the prospect of facing Draco out there. "You're right, I shouldn't worry about it. I may not be a hundred times better than Malfoy, but ten times is quite the gulf."

Seamus laughed as he tried to flick his wand. "You're the humble sort, aren't you Potter?" He said before he flicked his wand again. "Wingardium…"

Harry went wide-eyed when he saw the incorrect movement of the wand. "Seamus, wait!"

"…Leviosa!" And suddenly the feather was on fire, with Harry and Seamus working furiously to put it out.

Across the room, as Hermione and Ron expressed exasperation at their comrade's antics, Pansy was sharing their same sentiments. Watching Potter flail about as his sleeve caught fire from the feather; she mentally ticked off another point against The-Boy-That-Was-The-Focus-Of-Her-Waking-Thoughts.

"Can you believe Potter?" Daphne asked. "He's acting like a fool, making a fuss like this."

"Yes…" Pansy idly returned. As other children began to laugh at Harry's bit of misfortune, Pansy raised her verbal sniper rifle and fired off a shot. "Yes that's quite brilliant Potter! Even the Weasel knows better than to set himself on fire."

Ron looked over and let out a dismissive snort. He wanted to say something along the lines of the possibility of Pansy being set on fire, but wisely bit his tongue. Hermione was a little more liberal in her condemnation. "You can't open your mouth without saying something mean about anyone, can you?"

There was no way the mudblood was trying to have a go with her. "I can't open my mouth without saying something true about Gryffindor, Granger." She fired back.

"Now that's enough…" Professor Flitwick tried to intervene as he helped Harry pat away the fire.

Hermione snorted. "It's probably because you don't know how to do anything else."

Pansy zeroed in. "A dig at my intelligence? It must be nice to be a know-it-all; it certainly overcompensates for your severe shortcomings. Like your dirty hair."

In came her support shooter, Millicent. "Or your ugly buck teeth."

"Girls…!" Professor Flitwick tried to get a word in.

Suddenly an artillery barrage in the form of Parvati Patil opened up on Millicent. "It's better to be buck-toothed than fat, Bulstrode!"

"I'm not fat, I'm big boned!" Millicent tried to regain her ground. Parvati however had her square in her sights.

"Yes, whale boned." Parvati's verbal headshot sent an "Ooh" reverberating among the students.

"Miss Patil, you will apologize this instant for that!"

Quickly, Parvati tried to backtrack and abandoned covering Hermione, who was sized up in Pansy's sights for a parting shot.

"You should be lucky you're so smart, if you weren't I don't think Potter would go through the humiliation of pretending to be your friend." Pansy's surgical shot scored a direct hit, and Hermione balked somewhat under the force of the verbal blow. It didn't hit as hard as Flint's mudblood insult, but it hurt all the same. Pansy smiled smugly as Hermione turned to look at Ron and Harry, the former glaring daggers at Pansy while the latter returned her look.

Feeling smug, Pansy turned to direct a boastful look towards Potter and immediately regretted it. While it wasn't as intense as his reaction to Flint's insult, his cold stare quickly began to eat at her, chipping away at her air of superiority until she turned away, a shiver wracking her. In what felt like minutes but was little less than an instant, he'd smote her with just a look and she couldn't believe it.

"Miss Parkinson!" Professor Flitwick admonished, "And Miss Bulstrode, the both of you will apologize to Miss Granger. I will not tolerate that behavior in my class, and if you see fit to continue I will begin taking points from everyone's houses."

To save face and avoid a point deduction, apologies were quickly leveled to Hermione, although they were halfhearted at best. Class went by like a blur after that, with Pansy's focus on Harry as he happily worked with his friends, as though nothing of significance had happened. How did he do that? What exactly was it? When the bell finally rang, and the students began to disperse, she decided to go straight to the source.

Harry was almost right out the door after Ron and Seamus–themselves in pursuit of Hermione to cheer her up–when he felt a rapping on his shoulder. "Huh? Oh, hello Pansy…"

"What are you?" She demanded, and Harry visibly recoiled. "One minute you're acting like a total fool and the next you're giving looks that could make You-Know-Who's blood turn to ice."

She jabbed a finger into his chest, it hurt a little. "Come off it Potter, you don't fool me."

Harry was both curious and intrigued; this was not how Pansy Parkinson was supposed to act. Directly confronting him, being demanding and straight to the point, it was very Gryffindor of her. It all made sense, however, when Pansy leaned a little close and gave him a charming smile.

"You're very interesting." She said, and when he looked down at her jabbing finger, she brought it up and flicked his nose with it before turning around and walking away with a laugh. Scratch that, it still didn't make sense.

_"Is…is she interested in me?"_ Harry mused over this new development, and suddenly found himself entirely lost in thought, a state that would continue on for the rest of the day.

* * *

"Harry…hey Harry!"

Ron's constant querying finally picked through the fog his thoughts had descended into, and Harry snapped out of it. He looked around, and saw that it was clearly evening, and he was in the Great Hall for dinner. How long did he zone out, and how did he get here in one piece? He looked to Ron.

"What did I miss?" He asked, and Ron just stared.

"What do you mean, what did you miss? You've been out of it next to all day, like…" He looked to Hermione, who quickly used the slang term she'd introduced him to earlier.

"…Like you were on autopilot, Harry. Are you okay?" She asked right on the heels of her explanation.

Harry stared at Hermione, and suddenly something seemed off, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He was really off his game, that damn daze of his had thrown him that badly. Still, he mustered a smile and nod. "I'm just fine; I was off daydreaming most of the day."

Ron smiled. "Your mind's on your first match, huh? The wait must be murder."

That would do for an excuse. "Yes, planning my approach for my first match, and I don't like details to go uncovered." Like one was right this moment, it was beginning to bother him. This was becoming vexing, what was it…?

"TROLL!"

Oh right, there it was. Harry whirled around when Professor Quirrel rushed in, screaming at the top of his lungs "Troll" over and over until he came to a dead stop in the middle of the Hall, students, faculty, and ghosts alike staring at him in silence. Taking a few breaths and regaining his composure, Professor Quirrel cleared his throat and spoke both eloquently and loudly to his audience.

"There is a troll in the dungeon; I just thought that you would like to know." With a final brief nod, the professor's eyes rolled back into his head and he dropped to the floor in a faint. Confusion short of pandemonium began to spread, as the teachers and prefects leaped to action to quell the students at Dumbledore's call.

Harry stared as the room became an organized riot as they began to gather the first years together to move to their houses. The troll was right on schedule, and that meant Quirrel was going to make his move, but then… "Wait."

"What is it?" He turned to look at Hermione, and stared at her. Oh bollocks.

"Where's Parkinson?" Slytherin's prefect called over the clamor of the students and teachers yelling instructions. "Has anyone seen Pansy Parkinson?"

Harry froze when it registered in his ears, and the freeze went right down to the marrow when he heard Daphne call back. "She said she was going to the bathroom!"

Oh bollocks and nearly every other swear Harry could think of at that very instant. Hermione grew frightened when she saw him pale. "Harry, what's going on?"

"There's a troll in the dungeon." Harry said.

"So?" Ron asked. "That's why we're going to our rooms! You're really out of it today, aren't you?"

Harry looked to Ron, then Hermione. "Pansy went to the bathroom, and Slytherin's bathrooms are where?"

Hermione gasped. "In the dungeon…"

"She'll be fine!" Ron said, before Harry suddenly eyed the passing Hufflepuffs. "Harry?"

"She won't be fine, are you coming or not?" Harry demanded quietly and urgently.

Ron huffed. "Why are you going to help a Slytherin anyway?"

"Because she's a human being too, regardless of what house she's in now come on!" He said before he broke into the Hufflepuff group. Ron watched Harry go, and then turned to Hermione, who was similarly warring with herself.

"But…" To his surprise, Hermione's resolve solidified after several moments of obvious internal conflict.

"Ronald Weasley come on, we're going to help!" She whispered before she followed Harry, pulling Ron after her. Letting out a groan, he let himself be pulled along and into the organized chaos.

* * *

It was when she had left the bathroom, when the stench had hit her. Pansy's nose wrinkled at the putrid and powerful odor that quickly filled the hallway of the dungeon like a malevolent wave. It had made her throw-up a little before she gathered her composure and looked around for the sources of it. She didn't see it at first, but she certainly heard it, and the loud and heavy footsteps it made caused her to go rigid with fear.

Whatever it was, it was around the corner directly behind her and walking in her direction. Taking several deep breaths through her mouth to calm herself, Pansy turned and rushed back into the girl's bathroom, slamming the door behind her in her haste. The clap of the wooden door against its stone frame immediately caught the attention of the twelve foot tall, filthy monster that emerged from the adjacent hall. It smelled the air, its wide and ugly nostrils sucking up the putrid air.

Even through its own filth, it smelled prey.

Pansy rushed into the stall furthest from the door, closed it, and then cowered in the furthest corner next to the toilet, drawing her knees to her chest and covering her head with her hands in an effort to appear as small as possible. What on Earth was a troll doing in the school? Where were the teachers to prevent this? But more importantly was it gone?

The door was blasted off its hinges–taking some of the doorway with it–by a single blow from the troll's club, and Pansy's question was answered. She froze, hardly breathing through her clenched teeth as the creature clumsily made its way in, sniffing loudly into the air as its wide and ungainly body shattered the sinks that lined the wall opposite of the stalls.

_"Go away…go away…go away…go away…"_ The words became a mantra in her head, even as she watched the trolls footsteps shuffle to a stop in front of her stall. She began to quietly mouth the mantra when the troll's fat, gnarled fingers folded over the top of the doorway. In one wild motion, the monster tore the stall door clean away, and stared down at her.

"Oh no…" She knew about trolls, what self-respecting witch didn't? They were pure omnivores, and when you were that big, being purely omnivorous was a terrifying prospect to anything smaller than you, in particular young witches caught without a wand or the knowledge to handle a troll even if they had one.

The drooling troll raised the large wooden club it carried in hand to properly kill its prey, when a length of pipe and some masonry struck its head and shoulders harmlessly. "Hey! Hey you big ugly lout, over here!"

Pansy recognized that voice, Weasley, what was he doing here? Another voice called from beyond her field of view before more rocks and pipes began to hit it. "Yes, over here! Come on!"

"Granger…?" She mouthed in disbelief as the troll finally turned to face them. As it turned, she watched as Harry quickly and quietly shuffled around its back, evading notice before he rushed into the stall and knelt with her. "P-Potter…!"

"Quiet! Come on, we're getting out of here!" He said in a harsh whisper as he grabbed her arm and tried to pull her up. She refused to budge, in fact even pulling back when it seemed the troll had noticed them. "Pansy, come on!"

Outside the stall, Ron and Hermione both had mixed feelings about their results. They caught its attention, but now they had its attention. Ron looked to Hermione. "Well, now what?"

"I…" Hermione drew her wand. "I hope you had an idea."

"An idea, I don't even have any spells to use! You're the smart one!" Ron squeaked back as the troll raised the club above its head and swung at them. Ron grabbed Hermione and they both dove to a corner of the bathroom just before the club violently smashed the floor where they had stood. Letting out a bull-like snort, the troll swung the club to the side as it lifted it, smashing several stalls and eliciting a scream of fright from Pansy.

"Damn it!" Harry hissed as the troll followed her scream and wrecked the other stalls with another blow, exposing them both to it. Pansy instinctively put her arms around Harry as she screamed again, while he pulled his robe over her to protect her from the splinters. The troll was now looming over them both, hungrily.

"Hermione, do something!" Ron cried as he saw Harry produce his wand and point it up at the advancing troll.

"I'm trying, I'm trying!" Hermione yelled back before she flicked her wand. "Stupefy!"

The spell shot forth and struck the monster, but did little more than agitate it. Hermione looked to Ron. "Hit it!"

"But I don't know that one!" Ron cried out as he fumbled with his wand.

"Just do it!" Stupefy! Stupefy! Stupefy!" Hermione yelled as she cast the spell over and over, hitting the troll repeatedly.

"Uh…ah…" Ron watched her movements quickly before copying them. "Stupefy!" The spell lashed out and hit the trolls back. Ron was bewildered. "I did it! I did it! Stupefy! Stupefy! Stupefy!"

The spells kept going, hitting the troll and annoying it quite nicely. After several more hits, it turned towards both children and roared before brandishing its club, and both retreated from the swing in fright. Pansy whimpered loudly, as the clearly angry troll turned its attention back to its meal plus seconds. Nothing was going to interrupt it now.

"We're going to die…we're going to die…" Pansy whimpered as she held tightly onto Harry and buried her face in his shoulder. She then stopped, when she noticed that he was stone still. No not stone, he was tense, like a spring ready to be released. She looked up at him, and found not fear but an angered determination as he steadied his wand and aimed it at the advancing troll.

"We're not going to die." He quietly said back to her.

He wanted the troll gone; he did not want it to hurt anyone. As he stared at the inhuman monster, his thoughts raced to the quickest and most efficient spell to perform the grisly task. "Avada…"

Pansy heard his words, and her eyes went wide. The troll prepared to lunge, when Hermione and Ron called out together.

"STUPEFY!" The two spells hit the back of the trolls head with considerable force, interrupting Harry as much as the beast. Growling angrily, the troll raised its club and Harry, realizing what he had almost done, regained his composure and leveled the wand at the troll.

"Confringo."

The explosion that followed shook the hallway and knocked both Ron and Hermione off their feet as the troll was blasted through the wall behind it and out into the adjacent hall before smashing into the opposite wall of the corridor. Letting out a final gasp, the troll slumped down and quietly expired.

Silence ensued, with Ron and Hermione staring in utter disbelief at what they witnessed even as their ears rang from the potent blast. Through the dense dust and mist created by the smashed wall and broken pipes, they acquired the glint of ambient light off Harry's glasses as he slowly stood up. When it cleared, they saw he was unharmed, as was Pansy–she was wearing an identical look of outright amazement.

"Bloody Hell, Harry…" Ron finally spoke. "…What did you do?"

Hermione stepped forward, shocked to near disbelief when she saw the path of Harry's spell, and the endpoint where the dead troll lay. She brought her hands to her mouth, and looked from the troll to Harry. "You killed it!"

She was completely baffled, what was going on here? A first year couldn't do something like that, but there it was right in front of her. She had to learn more, the questions that were running through her inquisitive mind demanded answers. She looked to Ron, and then towards the doorway when she heard the rapidly approaching footsteps. The teachers were here.

Harry stared at the troll, and it took several moments for Hermione's words to register in his head. He looked down at his wand hand, and finally noticed that his entire arm was trembling. He grabbed it with his other hand to still it, as Professor McGonagall swooped in like a hawk from the heavens.

"What…what on Earth is this? What's happened here?" She demanded loudly and harshly when she saw the damage done. Harry turned to her, completely unsure how to explain this one.

"The troll!" Hermione cried out, as though it had come back to life. "Harry overheard that Pansy was still in the dungeon so we rushed down here to get her!"

Ron, unsure for only an instant, quickly added. "When we got here, it was attacking her so we attacked it, we did!"

Harry looked to his two friends, and suddenly felt elated. "Y-yes, that's what happened. We tried to help her, but then the troll got angry and kept thrashing about."

The other teachers could be heard rushing down the hall as McGonagall looked at the children incredulously. "And what caused all this, which of you is responsible for that explosion I heard?"

Okay, that was going to be a tough one to explain. Unexpectedly, it was Hermione who spoke up. "It was a blasting charm! Harry, Ron, and I used it together to shoot the troll and it stumbled through the wall!"

Ron looked over to Hermione as McGonagall appraised the damage again, and immediately received a quick and covert look warning him to "go with it".

"A blasting charm, really?" McGonagall wasn't going to be so easily sold, given her stern look. "The three of you did this?"

"Yes!" Pansy squeaked out suddenly, catching the attention of all three Gryffindors and their house head. "I-I saw everything, they used a blasting charm together and it fell through the wall."

The other teachers arrived, and immediately marveled at the destruction wrought. Harry looked to them, and saw Snape amongst them, eying him with extra suspicion after beholding the damage. McGonagall scrutinized Hermione. "Where did you learn that? A charm of that power isn't safe for first years at all!"

"I studied it from a seventh year's book, and…and…" She prayed and hoped that McGonagall brought this. "…I demonstrated the motions on the way down, just in case we actually encountered the troll."

"Yeah, that's it." Ron quickly testified. "I guess it worked because we were in a bind…"

"That must be it!" Harry and Pansy said together.

McGonagall looked at the ruins and the dead troll, no clean up a little bit of magic wouldn't fix, and the more important implications could be worked out without the children present. They had foolishly come down and saved another student, at great risk to themselves, and had come out alive and with quite the story to tell of it.

"This is by far the most reckless and foolish thing I've witnessed in my years as a Professor," She admonished the students, "But you displayed considerable bravery for the sake of another student and rescued her. That's worthy of note."

Snape's eyes narrowed a bit as the students relaxed somewhat. McGonagall then leveled her punishment. "Five points off Gryffindor for disobeying the headmaster, ten points for causing extensive property damage, and fifteen points for the unauthorized use of a potentially dangerous spell. For your courage, however, I will reward Gryffindor ninety points. That should be fair, shouldn't it?"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged brightening smiles, and all gave quick nods to the Professor. Finding that to her satisfaction, McGonagall nodded. "Very well then, all of you appear unharmed but if you must go see Madam Pomfrey. If not, report to your houses and finish the rest of your dinner."

"Yes Professor." All four quickly responded before rushing out of the bathroom Pansy giving a parting look towards Harry as he and his mates rushed off in a hurry, while she headed for Slytherin. As the children left, Snape walked over to the troll and then looked at the damage done.

"Three blasting charms used at once?" He spoke to McGonagall, who wisely shook her head.

"That would be impossible." She traced the path of the blast, right back to where she had seen Potter standing when she had entered. Her expression changed to one of muted surprise when the most plausible conclusion came up. "This was quite clearly Potter's doing alone."

Snape stared silently at the McGonagall for a few moments before turning to face the dead troll. He narrowed his eyes as he nodded slowly in agreement. The boy was more than he let on, much, much more, and both he and McGonagall–without saying the other professors struck by the former's assessment–were curious as to what.

* * *

Harry, Ron, and Hermione reached their house and entered unannounced. Luckily for them the feast was continuing and almost all the other students present in the common room were preoccupied with their speculation over the incident to even notice their absence. Well, at least that was the case until Fred and George spotted Ron and ambushed him and cut him away from his friends.

"Hello Ronald." Fred said as he took one side of the youngest Weasley. He was wearing the charming smile of an older brother about to grill his sibling.

"Late to the dinner, I see." George added. His smile muscle for muscle resembled Fred's.

Ron gulped, and he began to sweat as siblings cornered by older brothers were wont to do. "Well, I uh…"

"Snuck off?" Fred asked.

"Went to see a troll?" George asked.

Fred leaned close. "Wanted to be a hero?"

"Or did you just want to say you saw one?" George rested a hand on Ron's head and roughly ruffled up his hair.

"I really saw it!" Ron quickly confessed. Fred and George looked to each other, and then nodded before sitting down with Ron and pulling up a plate with all their collective favorites. Suddenly both brothers were much, much nicer.

"Well then…" George began.

"…You'll have to tell us everything." Fred said.

"What did you see?" George asked.

"And smell. Those trolls are supposedly awful to the nose." Fred pointed.

"They're called walking rubbish heaps for a few reasons." George added.

Ron snorted at that. "Shocking to say, they smell better dead, than alive."

The Weasley twins went wide-eyed and grabbed Ron, their attention had been fully grabbed in turn…as had that of nearby students. "You mean the troll's already dead?"

Harry had wisely removed himself from the rest of his housemates and was seated on a chair that he turned away from the gathering. After he sank into the chair, he stared at the wall and brought his hands to cover his face in exasperation.

"I've barely done a thing, and so much is changing." He muttered to himself before he noticed a presence standing over him. He looked up at Hermione, staring down at him with an expression that said "you have a lot of explaining to do". "What is it, Hermione?"

She rested her hand on the back of the tall chair, above Harry's head. "What the Hell was that?"

Harry winced as Hermione continued her accusation. She at least kept her volume down. "Harry, you're powerful, I mean really powerful. Most wizards don't learn a spell like that until the later years, or as Aurors, and even then it takes years to even get right!"

"You…swore." He said in surprise.

"That's not the issue!" Hermione leaned closer to him before shaking her head. "Then you lied straight to Professor McGonagall's face…"

"You backed me up!" Harry hissed back.

"I lied because you're my God damned friend!" Wow, she did it again and didn't seem to care, she was really upset. "Why didn't you tell us you could do stuff like that?"

Harry stared at Hermione, and realized he wasn't going to hear the end of it if he tried to avoid the subject or change it. It was too soon to start revealing his hand, and it was only two months into the year–burdening her with even a hint to what was going on would only lead to pain later. "Don't tell anyone else, okay? But…"

"But what, what is it?" Hermione asked.

Harry sighed. "I'm being tutored by Dumbledore, advanced stuff."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Tutored for what?"

"In case You-Know-Who comes back…" Hermione regarded Harry's answer with confusion, before she realized who he meant and gasped.

"You mean Voldemort? He's dead, isn't he?" She asked.

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "It's better to err on the side of caution, so just in case Dumbledore began tutoring me a while ago."

How long was a while ago? She wanted to ask, before Harry interrupted her. "Look, I don't want to talk about it anymore. Dumbledore wanted me to enjoy my school year, and to learn to be a proper wizard. The spells he taught me are for emergencies only."

"I see." Hermione nodded, she was still bothered by this. If Dumbledore was tutoring him on his magic, who taught him to fly and where did he get the taser from, and the night vision goggles? Harry placed a hand on her shoulder. "Harry?"

"Still, thank you for backing me up down there." He whispered with a smile.

Hermione smiled back. "You stood up for me, what kind of friend would be if I didn't?"

Harry let out a small laugh at that, before Hermione continued. "I still have questions I want answered, Harry James Potter, but those can, okay?"

"Okay…" Harry replied, and Hermione pulled away from him. There were still things that bothered her, like his very first reaction when Quirrel ran in screaming about the troll. He had looked straight at her and gotten very pale, why?

After Hermione waved and headed back over to finish her dinner, Harry sank into the chair and sighed. As long as Quirrel didn't find out that little fact about him, there wouldn't be trouble. Then again, if he did…

* * *

A/N: Sorry it's been so long, the other day I just fell into a thing and began burning through it. Hope you like it.


	6. Book 1: Pitchmen

Disclaimer: Run, live to fly; fly to live, do or die

**HI-POWER: Harry Is Pissed Off With Everyone's Rubbish**  
Pitchmen

_Rest in Peace, Billy Mays._

**[5.]**

November had come, and before Harry would know it would be gone away. The season for Quidditch had begun, and with the troll incident behind him he was looking forward to what came next. The crisp fall season was in full effect, with a noticeable chill in the air on the days the sun wasn't out and beaming. Hogwarts' students were out in force for the upcoming Quidditch match, the first of the year.

The stands were raised high into the chilly late morning air, but that didn't stop any of the students from showing their enthusiasm for the first game of the season, and the debut of The-Boy-Who-Rocked-All-Manner-Of-Face. Said boy was in the locker room, checking his broom as the rest of the team finished changing into their scarlet playing robes.

After tying on his shin guards and seeing that everyone was fully dressed and equipped, Oliver Wood rose to his feet and cleared his throat. Harry and rest of the team present, the Weasley twins, Katie Bell, Angelina Johnson, and Alicia Spinnet. "Alright, men…"

"And women." Angelina quickly added.

"Yes, right, and women…" Oliver quickly agreed to a slight hint of embarrassment. "This is it!"

"The big one." Fred suddenly added.

"The one we've all been waiting for." George followed, as Oliver stood there with his mouth hung open.

"We know it by heart, you know. He says it every game." Fred said aside to Harry.

"Every game?" Harry asked before Oliver admonished both twins for their joking.

"Knock it off. Anyway, this is the best team we've had in years. We're going to win, I just know it." His expression went from cheerful to very, very sinister. Harry could almost hear the "Or Else" that it seemed to say. He coughed and looked away, and found the rest of the team similarly balking under the gaze. Oliver Wood was captain for a reason.

Oliver was of course pleased that his message got across. "Right, now let's get out there and give Gryffindor a good show now. It's time."

Lining up, from oldest to youngest, the Gryffindor Quidditch Team marched out into the open and to the field where the Slytherin Team was arriving and Madam Hooch waited. The cheers were exuberant, and sending a rush of awe through Harry. There was something to be said about remembering something and then doing that very thing: while the memory was sweet, it just could not compare to the experience.

"…I'm actually doing it…" He whispered as looked across to his opposition, who was cause for the most celebration from the Slytherin stands. Standing directly opposite of him was Draco Malfoy himself, wearing a bit of a haughty look as he stared back. In his hand, as in the hands of the other Slytherins, was a new broom. "Hey Malfoy, nice broom you have."

Draco smirked as he glanced to the Nimbus 2001 prototype he held in his hand. "Fresh off the drawing board, complete with several marked improvements over the 2000."

The sight of the new brooms sent a bit of dread through the Gryffindor Team, as voiced by Angelina. "What, they got new brooms?"

"New models too, that's just great." Katie looked to Oliver, who didn't seem concerned.

"Relax, remember what we trained for." Oliver said to the others.

Fred and George looked to each other and smirked, while Angelina and Alicia gave quick nods. Oliver looked over to Harry, who slowly nodded back before tightening the grip on his broom. He returned his attention to Draco, and found a Slytherin team unimpressed by the threat of a strategy.

"You're about to learn, Potter," Draco smugly stated, "That on the Quidditch Pitch, Gryffindor's place is under our boot."

"Hey, Wood." Adrian Pucey said quickly. "We're paying your team back for what happened to Marcus."

Oliver stepped forward. "I'd like to see you try."

"That's enough!" Madam Hooch declared. "When you get out there, I want a good fair match. Let's try to avoid a visit to Madam Pomfrey today and have some fun."

"We'll try." Adrian said. How hard was left merely to speculation, of course.

"Now then," Madam Hooch demanded, "Shake hands."

Up in the Gryffindor Stands as the team exchanged the only sporting act that was likely to take place this game, Hermione was on her feet and uncharacteristically loud as she let out a cheer for Harry. With her, Neville, Ron, Seamus, and Dean Thomas–a football hooligan waiting to happen going by his obsession with West Ham–were waving a banner declaring "Harry for Prime Minister!" in flashing colors.

"Ah, that's quite a banner you've got there!" Hermione jumped when she heard the boisterous voice of Hagrid as he gracefully–for a half-giant–made his way over to where they were seated.

"Hello Hagrid!" Hermione chirped to the Game Master.

"Allo Hermione, allo Ron!" Hagrid sat down, the bench creaking loudly beneath them. "Wanted to get a good view of the match, watch m'boy Harry carve the sky like a roast."

Ron beamed. "It's going to be great; Fred and George said they've been practicing all new flying just for the match!"

"Well! What are we waiting for then?" Hagrid called with the crowd. "Hey Hooch, let's get this going!"

In the opposing Slytherin stands, Pansy's attention was focused on Harry as Traci and Millicent waved Slytherin flags and chanted Draco's name along with other students. Resting her elbows on her knees and her chin on her gloved and folded hands, Pansy tuned out the crowd and waited patiently for the start of the match.

Up in the press box, Lee Jordan cracked his knuckles as he prepared to sit down and announce for the match. "It's a cold and brisk day as Slytherin and Gryffindor hit the pitch for the first game of the season. I'm the voice of Hogwarts' Quidditch, Lee Jordan! The match is about to begin, so let's cut straight to the action!"

Madam Hooch was in agreement. "Everyone, mount your brooms! On my whistle, we begin!"

Mounting his broom in synch with his team, Harry gave another look to Draco, whose arrogance slipped into a sneer. "You're going to know your place, Potter."

Harry smiled as they ascended to altitude. "Let's just have a good game."

Holding the Quaffle in one hand, Madam Hooch ascended to just below the players before holding it up and blowing into her whistle. The Quaffle was in the air a second later, and it was in the hands of Angelina as she suddenly shot off. Slytherin's chasers were immediately in pursuit as Oliver prepared to back off.

"Harry, do your thing! Fred and George, remember just like we practiced!" Oliver called out as he retreated to the goal. Both twins looked to each other and grinned before turning their attention towards the loosened Bludgers buzzing around, seeking the nearest target. Meanwhile, Harry shot high into the sky, to be sure to stay out of the way of the chaos of the match. Reaching the optimal altitude, he stopped and assumed a side-saddle position on his broom before he began scanning the field below.

"Potter." Draco spoke, and sitting around waiting for the snitch suddenly got interesting.

He looked to his rival. "Going to remind me that my place is under your boot, Malfoy?"

Draco narrowed his eyes at Harry, before he averted them to seek out the Snitch. Harry let out a small laugh and did the same. Boy was the crowd below in for a show.

* * *

Gryffindor was up to something, Adrian noticed as he joined in the pursuit of the Quaffle. Angelina had taken the lead of the pack, and rather than get in a possible defensive position near the scoring position, both Alicia and Katie were flying in tight formation at her right and left respectively, forming a spearhead as both Weasley twins kept close to its flanks.

He looked to the Beater at his side, and pointed him towards the Bludger before he dove to take the offensive, supported by another Chaser. "Cut off Bell and I'll get the Quaffle!"

Their attack from Angelina's above-left and to the right was spotted by Alicia who called out to Angelina. "Pincer from three and seven-high!"

Hearing this, Angelina nodded before she suddenly yanked her broom up and dropped speed dramatically. As she did, Katie and Alicia suddenly turned towards one another, as Adrian came down on where Angelina had been. They narrowly passed above and below each other, while the thoroughly spooked Adrian veered off and came to a stop as he tried to make sense of what happened.

The Chaser on his wing, former Seeker Terence Higgs, had turned about and was homing in on Angelina as she backtracked. The second he closed in however, Angelina turned around and held up both hands, revealing no sign of the Quaffle. "What the bloody hell?" He turned about. "She passed it!"

Katie had it, and was skimming the grass of the pitch at high speed. Adrian turned and just caught sight of her with it in hand before he dove in pursuit. What happened to those damned Weasels?

He found out quickly enough as the Bludger hammered into him, knocking him off his broom. Overhead, Fred flipped his bat to himself before laughing to Alicia, who was at his side. Downfield, Katie was still going hard and fast, and George was at her side, at just to her left and below.

The Slytherin Beater whom Adrian had sent off immediately knocked a Bludger towards Katie's open right, which it charged in on. Tightening her hold on the broom, she swiftly went up and over George while he slid over into the position she once occupied, before he smashed the Bludger straight ahead for Slytherin's keeper. Said Keeper, a Miss Miley Bletchley, didn't expect such a decisive play, and could only really raise her arms to block the Bludger as it plowed into her, Slytherin's other Beater too late to get to it.

Katie let out a laugh, and performed a roll as she entered the scoring area and hurled the Quaffle through the hoop, to the boisterous cheers of Gryffindor's stands and the loud and damning boos of the Slytherins. Shaking his head as he got back up to altitude, Adrian couldn't believe it. Gryffindor drew first blood? And that flying, it was like nothing he'd never seen.

"How'd they get so good?" He growled as he got back into the air.

"Hey Pucey, my beaters are looking to become aces today, so you'd better look out for those odd Bludgers!" Oliver taunted.

"Aces, what the Hell's an ace?" He demanded.

"A better Beater than your boys, that's what!" Fred taunted as he and Alicia whipped past Adrian on either side of him to form up with his teammates. Grumbling, he took off in pursuit.

"That was amazing!" In the stands, Hermione cheered as she watched the next play begin. Ron, though he wanted to boast about it being no big deal to the muggle-born witch, couldn't help but be impressed himself. That was an entirely new style of flying he saw out there, and so tightly coordinated too!

* * *

At that moment a gleam of gold shining in the sun caught everyone's attention. The Snitch whipped past them, and dove into the light of the late morning sun, a reflective beacon to the two pairs of eyes circling high overhead. A brief silence fell as even the other players of both teams turned their attention to the Golden Snitch as it zipped and bounced about the pitch erratically.

Draco had spotted it first, and shot into a momentum-building dive. This experimental broom was rated a good five knots faster than the Nimbus 2000, in a straight line like this, he had the advantage–especially with the edge in distance. Rolling over, Harry gave pursuit, the wind whipping his robes straight back, making him resemble a diving crimson blur on pursuit of Draco's emerald.

"Hey Malfoy, don't crash!" Harry taunted as the Snitch suddenly whipped in the opposite direction. Draco slowed down to change direction, but Harry shot past, rolling over and pulling out the dive bearing right after the Snitch like a homing missile. The maneuver was so seamless and without hesitation, professional skilled! It galled Draco.

"Bloody damn!" He hissed as he fell into pursuit, quickly closing the gap, with both Seekers cutting mere feet off above the grass. The Snitch and its Seekers raced beneath the formation of Gryffindor as Fred smacked a Bludger back at his Slytherin counterpart.

"Wow, look at him go!" George cheered as he waved his bat in the air. "Go Harry!"

The second Bludger suddenly came at him from the side, and with quick reflexes he bashed it away from the current Chaser with the Quaffle, Angelina. To his dismay, the Bludger began to home in on the Seekers. "Whoops!"

"Harry will be fine! One less Bludger on us means we can pay more attention to the offensive!" Katie declared as they pressed the attack on the Slytherin goal.

Adrian, seeing the Bludger race off, turned to one of his Beaters. "Get the damn thing off Malfoy or his Father will have you expelled! Go!"

In the Slytherin stands, the crowd was most displeased with Slytherin's poor showing–it was already thirty to nothing with Gryffindor displaying excellent control of the Quaffle. Poor Miley was taking a pounding to boot, which helped add twenty more points to the other team. As the rest of her housemates cried foul Pansy's attention was fully tuned into the Potter/Malfoy battle as it intensified in pursuit of the Snitch.

"Go…go…!" She whispered without realizing it as Draco cut in front of Harry, their speed so high that it was flattening the grass in their wake. Harry leaned forward on his broom, minimizing his air resistance and speeding up, catching even with Draco. When he looked over to see Harry even with him, he couldn't believe it.

"How is that even possible?" He gasped before the Snitch suddenly shot straight up. "Bollocks!"

Draco began to pull up, while Harry yanked his broom's nose straight up. Still traveling forward with the broom nose up, Harry suddenly accelerated and rocketed above a surprised Draco. The suddenness of the maneuver had the stands in an uproar as Harry's climb shot above them. Draco was right behind him, spiraling around the path of his ascent in hot pursuit to get a good angle in on the snitch.

Harry glanced back from left to right as Draco homed in on the Snitch, before turning his undivided attention to it. They were too high, it was too open, too easily seen, and the Snitch seemed to know it. As both Seekers closed in on it, it suddenly dropped down between both back towards the pitch. Draco swore again as he shot above Harry, to swing around.

Grabbing the end of his broom, Harry yanked it back, flipping him end over end to point back towards the ground even as he continued upward. He then willed the broom forward and it did, hurtling straight down even as Draco was beginning his own dive. The Slytherin Seeker could not believe it. "How in the bloody Hell can he out-fly me?"

Still, the faster broom was proving its merit as Draco quickly caught up with Harry as they passed in front of the Ravenclaw stands, Harry on the inside and closing in fast on the Snitch with Draco closing the gap to near nothing.

"Any second now…" Harry muttered, and then the Broom bucked beneath him. "…There."

The Snitch turned direction, and Draco went on after it as Harry's Nimbus careened towards the grass out of control. Up in the press box, Lee's coverage of the dramatic stomping the Slytherin Team was facing came to a halt as Harry lost it. "It looks like Gryffindor's Seeker is having trouble with his broom!"

"Oh Hell, Harry!" Ron called out when he saw Harry race towards the opposing wall at high speed. "What are you doing?"

Hermione covered her mouth with her hands as she watched Harry go towards the wall. Hagrid, his binoculars in hand, went from the whirling aerial battle to The-Boy-Who-Was-Doomed. "Ah, don't worry about Harry. He's gonna be fine."

Approaching the wall, as Gryffindor's students watched in horror, Harry let out a snort and promptly dismounted his broom, his feet hitting the grass and cutting two long gouges in it as he acted as an emergency brake for the errant Nimbus. He slid across the pitch before he turned around, the bucking broom held in both hands against his back as he hit the wall to pin it there.

"Finite Incantatem." He muttered, and the Nimbus immediately ceased its wild bucking, becoming tame once again. Stepping from the wall, he smiled up to the crowd and Hagrid, who raised a thumb up in approval.

"See? What did I tell you! Harry had it under control!" He assured Hermione as she sagged in relief.

Up in the Slytherin stands, Snape's brows rose in surprise as he stopped uttering his counter-spell to the one he'd witnessed Quirrel uttering. He stared at Harry, had he cancelled the jinx on his own? He looked to Quirrel, who appeared every bit as shocked as he was at this sudden turn, before back to Harry as he began running with the broom held in front of him.

"Potter…" He whispered as Harry mounted the broom and shot off after Draco, who was in prime position to catch the Snitch.

Draco spotted Harry, and then turned his attention back to the Snitch. "Oh no you don't, Potter!"

He then suddenly slowed down just enough to cut in front of Harry before accelerating again and pulling ahead. Harry scoffed at the delaying tactic, before he realized what it was really for. The Bludger that they'd both left behind in their climb after the Snitch was now locked onto him. "Oh screw you, Malfoy…!"

"A dirty maneuver…!" Lee received a glare from McGonagall. "…A brilliant maneuver from Malfoy has put a Bludger on Potter's tail and it's been building up momentum!"

Harry snorted and kept after Draco, speeding up and once again closing the distance on both him and the Snitch as the Bludger pursued. Above, Fred looked to George before the latter called to Katie. "No Joy! They're going way too fast!"

Katie swore under her breath, and then looked to Angelina and Alicia. They had witnessed that scare with the broom and were in no mood to see their new and good Seeker take a beating his first match. "Play defense, let them have the Quaffle if you have to, we've got enough of a lead. Fred, you watch for that other Bludger, George you follow me!"

Both she and George immediately broke the formation and took off in another direction, hoping to cut off Harry and Draco as the Snitch drew them around the end of the course and back down it. The two Seekers were now neck and neck, careening along the wall again as the Snitch bounced and weaved unpredictably just in front of them. Up in the stands, Professor Quirrel narrowed his eyes before closing them and uttering another hex.

Harry looked aside to Draco, who gave a quick glare to him. Harry smiled big and watched the Snitch dance in a corkscrew before suddenly turning towards the middle of the pitch. The Seekers turned with it, Harry being much faster on the turn again and gaining the lead on not just Malfoy and but the Snitch as well. When he prepared to turn back to make a grab on it, however, he saw nothing but Bludger flying straight for his face.

"Bloody Hell!" He yelled out before George suddenly swooped in and smashed the Bludger into the ground, smashing his bat in the process. "HA! Thanks George!"

"Get moving Potter and win before they score!" George called out as the Bludger spun into the ground in preparation to fly again. Harry didn't need to be told as he regained his momentum and quickly caught even with Draco and weaved around and below him to fall into an attacking position.

"My broom's faster, how can he keep up like this…?" Draco hissed before the Snitch shot straight up again, with Harry right after it. "You won't win, Potter!"

"Go Harry, go!" Alicia called out as the two Seekers were in a climbing race again, with Harry showing up Draco's shiny new broom with pure talent alone. "Kick his arse!"

"Bludger three o'clock!" Angelina called out.

"Got it!" Fred called out, but before he could strike it, it suddenly veered off and took off in pursuit of the Seekers. "What the…?"

"It's going straight for them!" Angelina cried out before Adrian suddenly snatched the Quaffle from her. "Hey!"

The wind pulling at his face, Harry ascended like a missile, edging ahead of Draco as the Snitch continued its own ascent. The errant Bludger raced on, as Katie merged to draw it away. "Hey, over here you stupid thing!"

To her dismay, the Bludger ignored her and accelerated. She looked down to Oliver, who was locked onto the onrushing Adrian and then back up at the Bludger, it was headed straight for Harry! "The Bludger it's…!"

Hermione's eyes widened. "It's been…!"

Hagrid and Snape too realized it. "Jinxed!"

At the top of its climb, the Snitch suddenly circled around and began to dive for the ground. Anticipating it, both Seekers turned over to dive, only to come face to face with the onrushing Bludger. Harry's eyes widened. "It's back!"

"What the Hell are the Beaters doing?" Draco yelled before the Bludger suddenly burst into flames. He and Harry both yelled out together. "OH SHI–!"

The Bludger exploded violently, catching both in the blast. His hearing nonexistent save a loud tone between his ears, Harry fell through the cloud of smoke created by the blast and towards the ground. The Snitch was spiraling in, but so was Draco, his broom in burning pieces and drifting to the ground as he fell much faster.

Shaking his head and focusing, Harry looked between the Snitch and Draco before uttering a curse and diving after the latter. Accelerating, he caught Draco's unconscious body on his broom as the Snitch passed close to them. With the added weight and the speed of their descent, it took Harry everything he could to avoid killing them both when he landed, and both tumbled to the ground in a heap.

Madam Hooch blew the whistle and descended onto the pitch as Harry was getting up. Taking off his cracked glasses, he examined them and let out a sigh–he'd have to get them fixed later. Madam Hooch sighed as she looked to Harry, battered from his landing, Malfoy passed out but unharmed, one moderately damaged Nimbus 2000, and one burning Nimbus 2001 prototype.

"My goodness Potter," she said in exasperation, "You can't do anything small on a broom can you?"

Harry smiled to Madam Hooch before he felt a buzzing under his robe. As his teammates quickly arrived and dismounted their brooms, he reached inside. "Well, Madam Hooch there's a Muggle term that I like to abide by." He then produced the Snitch, its wings flapping madly in a vain attempt to escape his grip. "Go big, or go home."

Oliver had just dismounted his broom and stared in disbelief. "Wait…you…you caught it?"

"He caught it?" Adrian yelled in disbelief, he had been just about the score Slytherin's only goal when the errant Bludger had exploded, interrupting him. "Madam Hooch!"

"I believe that's game." Madam Hooch cut him off. Adrian gawked.

"But the Bludger exploded!" Adrian yelled, waking Draco from his bout of unconsciousness.

"What happened?" He asked. "Why are my ears ringing?"

"That never stopped a game before." Oliver pointed out as he wore the biggest grin on his face to date.

"But it went straight for him and tried to kill him!" Terence argued from atop his broom on high.

"I cite the '84-'85 final, when all of the balls, even the Quaffle, mercilessly attempted to slaughter the Slytherin team and play was continued." Fred noted.

"And the '85-'86 Slytherin and Gryffindor opener that saw the Snitch try to kill a certain Chaser…" George added.

Adrian's mouth moved but no words game out. Harry rested a finger on his temple and sighed. "So we won, huh?"

"It's an undisputable victory." Madam Hooch said before she blew the final whistle.

"We won, two hundred-sixty to zero!" Katie said enthusiastically as she hugged the nearest teammate, Oliver. The stands quickly broke into cheers, with the Gryffindor loudest and the Slytherins supplying the most boos.

"In his first game of the season, the youngest Seeker in over a hundred years, Harry Potter, has helped Gryffindor clinch a flawless victory over the favored to win Slytherin!" Lee managed to shout over the crowd.

"Alright Harry!" Ron yelled as the "Harry for Prime Minister" banner was waved like a flag by Dean and Seamus. Hermione was as relieved as she was ecstatic over the win, for a moment there she thought he was going to be hurt. But in hindsight, could she worry about him over something so relatively trivial? He was strong after all.

In the Slytherin stands, Crabbe booed as Goyle and several Slytherin boys worked up a chant of "Cheater Potter!" among the other students. Resting her hands on her lap, Pansy smiled as she watched Harry get lifted onto the shoulders of his teammates as he unashamedly held up both his broom and the Snitch.

If she had anymore doubts that Potter was her surefire bet, this most certainly did away with them.

* * *

Having been forced by the teachers to go see Madam Pomfrey to get checked over, Harry was happy to get out of the Hospital wing of the school and on his way to the Common Room, where one Hell of a party was going down to celebrate Gryffindor's first win in a long time–at least that's how George and Fred put it. As he made his way down the corridor for the stairs, he couldn't help a skip in his step as he compared his recent experience to the old memory.

"That was just incredible." He said aloud with a sigh. "I even got to put Malfoy in his place. Today was a good day."

The good times came to an abrupt halt when Professor Snape suddenly appeared from around a corner. "Potter."

He jumped back a step from Snape, his smile quickly disappearing. "Professor…."

"Don't jump from your skin, that's unbecoming of a wizard." Snape sneered as he looked down his nose at Harry. He then wasted no time getting to the point of their confrontation. "I wanted to ask you about the Broom and the Bludger."

Harry slowly nodded. "What about them? The broom malfunctioned or something."

Snape pressed. "And the Bludger…?"

"Someone had to have jinxed it." Harry slipped.

Snape narrowed his eyes a bit, how would a boy guess something like that. "How did you come to that conclusion, Potter?"

Harry avoided direct eye contact with Snape, keeping his head down and looking like a child punished to facilitate it. "That's what Hagrid suggested."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Hagrid?"

"Aye, Hagrid." The half-giant himself then announced as he emerged from the corridor behind Snape, surprising him. "Ya don't need to interrogate the lad. He's done nothin' wrong."

Snape visibly hid his grimace, as Hagrid smiled and rested a large hand on Harry's head in a friendly pat. "Harry's a hero today, so let him have his win. Dumbledore's already dealing with the unpleasantness."

Deciding that discretion was the better option, Snape nodded to Hagrid before turning his indiscriminate sneer to Harry. "I will congratulate you on your flying, Potter; it's given something for my students to work for, as I don't tolerate second best. Don't let victory make your ego swell…though I'm sure asking for that much is moot."

Like a shadow hugging the wall, Snape turned and dramatically exited the scene. Watching him go, Hagrid smiled down at Harry, and he smiled back up to him. "Want to join us for the party, Hagrid?"

"I'd love to, Harry! But I've got to see a man about a Dragon." Hagrid laughed and patted Harry on the back, nearly knocking him over, before turning for an exit. "Good show out there lad, keep it exciting for this boring old school."

Harry's smile grew as he waved Hagrid a farewell. "You don't have to worry about that."

The two parted ways, and Harry continued on, whistling a song that he hadn't even heard yet while he made for the stairs. As he reached them, he couldn't help but sing some of the lyrics. "No you can't read my poker face…she's got me like nobody…"

"Who does?" Harry jumped again and looked to the source of the voice. God damn those Slytherins were a sneaky lot. He peered over the railing and down at Pansy, who was leaning against the railing of the flight of stairs that led down to the dungeon as she looked up at him.

"Oh, hello Pansy…" He said warily, ever since the Troll, she had avoided him pointedly–but made no effort to hide that she had been watching him. Seeing her impish smile, he shook his head. "No one, I was just remembering an old song…"

"Oh." Pansy replied as she left the railing and walked up to the top of the steps. She got a little more serious. "I wanted to have a talk, Potter."

"About?" He didn't really have to ask, there was only one thing to talk about.

"The troll." She rounded the banister and joined Harry on the step he was on. She looked over the railing and down the steps, before looking back down the Hallway and then up the stairs. It would not do to have an eavesdropper at this critical moment. Good, there was no one around far as she could tell–she turned her attention to Harry. "I just want to know…"

How did he do confringo? When did he learn it? What would it take to learn from him?

"Why?" She asked, and Harry was taken off-guard…but only slightly this time. "You didn't have to come for me, but you did, and you saved my life."

Harry stared at her, and suddenly got a different side of Pansy. She looked almost ill as she averted her gaze and recalled the troll's attack. "I really thought I was going to die there, but then you and Granger and Weasley…then you…"

She returned her gaze to him. "What you did was amazing, Potter. It really was, and you thought nothing of it. You even lied to hide how powerful you really are from the teachers…"

At least as far as she could tell, it had been in the back of his mind since. "So what I'm saying is, well, thank you. But I have to know, why did you put yourself in danger for a Slytherin?"

Harry stared at Pansy, the same girl who attempted to sell him out when Voldemort demanded it at that final battle, the same girl who was irredeemably cruel and antagonistic for the petty reasons that drove far worse than her to murder. The question as to why indeed didn't try even come up in his own head as he answered.

"Because I could never forgive myself for letting someone die when I could have prevented it." He said, and a wave of feelings welled up in his chest, enough to make his grip on the banister tense.

Pansy observed the change of atmosphere with Harry's response, and realized her heart was beating very fast in her chest. She gave him a slow nod, and affirmed that there was even more to The-Boy-Who-Lived than she could comprehend. She smiled. "Well, I guess then…I owe you a Wizard's Debt then?"

Harry blinked, before Pansy folded her arms in front of her. "You saved my life, so it in effect belongs to you. You should know about these sorts of things, Potter."

"Oh…" Harry hummed and then smiled before resting his hands on her shoulders. Pansy gave a start before Harry leaned forward and kissed her, causing her eyes to go wide. That lasted all of a few moments, as her eyes drifted closed and she began to return the kiss. Soon as she began to return it, he pulled away, leaving her face completely flushed.

"P-Potter…?" She gasped softly as she tried to catch the breath he took away. Harry only smiled back.

"Consider the debt repaid." He said lightly. "Okay?"

Pansy's blush grew when she touched her lips. "I…I ah…uh…um…" She looked around, had someone seen it? "I…I ah…thank you…I…" She worried her lower lip before she nearly tripped down the single step to the hallway. "Ah! Sorry, sorry…"

She couldn't even look at him in the face, not without her heart suddenly pounding between her ears. "I have to go…um…bye!"

With that, she hurried down the stairs, carefully watching her step as steam seemed to pour off the top of her head. Watching her go, Harry smiled big before letting out a laugh and making his way up the staircase. "Well, that's certainly different."

It was fate's move.

* * *

Draco woke up in the Hospital wing, the exhaustion from his first Quidditch match having put him out the moment he sat down on the bed. Staring at the unfamiliar ceiling of the Hospital wing, he quietly reflected on what happened. His Father spent quite a pretty galleon on those brooms, the new robes, and his position as Seeker. Despite that, he'd lost. Not only that, but it was an embarrassing loss to Potter, and on top of that…because of that exploding Bludger, he had to suffer the indignity of having his life saved by…

Wait.

"He…Potter, he…"

No.

"Potter…" Draco's eyes widened.

He did, didn't he?

"Potter saved…"

…His life? Yes, yes he did.

"No, no, NO!"

Draco's scream of humiliation and despair brought Madam Pomfrey running, as the reality of the situation crashed down on the rising star of Slytherin. He owed Harry Potter, big time, and there was nothing he could do about it.

He knew about these sorts of things, after all.

* * *

A/N: The best and worst part about this chapter is that I don't have to write another Quidditch Match until Book Two. Next chapter? Christmas! Maybe even in time for Christmas!


	7. Book 1: Erised On

Disclaimer: Hey there fanfic reader, MERRY FUCKING CHRISTMAS

**HI-POWER: Harry Is Pissed Off With Everyone's Rubbish**  
Erised On

_EcnegludnI Fles Sseldnim_

**[6.]**

By the time Pansy returned to Slytherin's common room, she was unable to control the lightness in her step and her face was still a little red. She hadn't expected Harry to steal her first kiss! But it was so perfect, almost exactly how she fashioned it would go. In the back of her mind, she wondered where Harry learned, or if he was just naturally talented, but she quickly wrote it off as the latter. After all, he was The-Boy-Who-Was-Awesome.

In contrast to Pansy, the rest of the Slytherin Common room was a few degrees colder thanks to the heavy mood that defeat dropped on her housemates. The Slytherin Quidditch Players were the pariahs of the house, with even the Bloody Baron regarding them with disdain. For the first time in years, Gryffindor had completely humiliated them, even with all the advantages they had. None was more furious about this than Marcus, who despite being unable to talk because of a magically shut jaw, could certainly glare and write down his misgivings to his team.

The first year girls that Pansy shared a room with, Daphne Greengrass, Tracey Davis, who didn't talk much, and Millicent Bulstrode–the perquisite ugly slash tough girl that every such clique needed–were seated away from the main brooding and doing a little bit of it themselves. They were, of course, sad about Draco and the exploding Bludger that nearly killed him. All they saw that match, was his incredible flying, and how a twist of misfortune ruined his victory over that showoff Potter.

Pansy sat down with them, and all immediately noticed her chipper mood. Millicent looked over. "Did you go see Draco?"

"No." Pansy replied.

Daphne, who had been discreetly observing Pansy's behavior over the past few weeks but had remained quiet about it, then chimed in. "She probably went to talk to Potter."

Millicent soured at the mention of his name. "The Gryffindor who nearly got Draco killed out there?"

"The Gryffindor who saved his life, you mean." Pansy retorted as she turned her nose up at Millicent. "Yes, I went to talk to him, I just wanted to thank him for saving mine, that's all."

Daphne looked to Millicent. "See?"

Millicent folded her arms and sneered, while Tracey spoke up. "So wait, you never thanked Potter for saving you until now?"

Pansy looked to Daphne, who shrugged her shoulders, before addressing Tracey. "I just wanted to measure my approach. I'm not going to just walk up to Potter and shower him with thanks."

"Though it's probably what you did." Daphne teased.

Pansy's blush returned and she looked away. "I wouldn't call it that. I thanked him and that was it. Though…"

Tracey and Daphne leaned closer, even Millicent turned a more open ear to the conversation. "When I brought up that I owed him for saving me, he…" Her blush deepened, and it pretty much told all three girls everything.

"You kissed him?" Tracey asked.

"No…" Pansy developed a small, silly smile.

"Wait, he kissed you?" Millicent squeaked, in disbelief, and Pansy tried to reign in her giddy swoon but it was hard.

"Oh and it was wonderful, too. He just stepped up and he kissed me, and when it was done my whole body felt made of rubber and I could barely stand." She said in a soft but excited rush, she didn't want the other Slytherins hearing it.

How scandalous, the three girls of Pansy's clique agreed among each other silently, their de facto leader taking such an interest in Potter like this. Millicent pressed on. "You really just let him do it?"

"Well, yes." Pansy replied. "I don't think you can even grasp just…just what he is…"

"What is he?" Tracey asked.

"Powerful." Pansy answered, before she crept even closer to the girls. "The Weasel and Granger had nothing to do with actually killing that troll. Potter did it alone, with a blasting curse."

This even had Daphne's eyes shooting wide. "He used a what!"

"There's no way a First Year could know that!" Millicent cried in disbelief as Pansy desperately waved her hands to hush both. All looked back with pale faces towards the rest of the Common Room and saw only curious looks. After an awkward silence, the others went back to minding whatever business they had.

"But that's not just it." Pansy then said. "I still can't believe it, but he was going to use another curse. I know what I heard, he was going to…you know…kill the troll where it stood."

The implication was not lost to any of the other girls. Daphne covered her mouth in shock, while Millicent's just went hanging open. Tracey shook her head in disbelief. "Are you for real?"

"A spell needs power, intent behind it for it to work. When that troll was advancing on us, I could feel it. It was all around me, and going down his arm to his wand, but he stopped and used the blasting curse instead." Pansy wasn't quite aware of the reverent tone she was speaking with, but it had captured her audience perfectly.

Millicent was the first to speak. "Gryffindor or not, Potter sounds way stronger than Draco."

"Yes…" Daphne whispered as Tracey nodded in agreement. "…Stronger than all of the boys in Slytherin…"

Pansy smiled a little. "Then you'll support me?"

"Support you on what, getting Potter for yourself?" Tracey asked in a tone that implied that she was interested herself now. Pansy saw this and then captured similar expressions on her friends. She needed to diffuse any…rivalries…before they sparked up–that would not do at all for her chances.

"No, no…I mean in supporting Potter…like a fan club or something. He's still a Gryffindor after all, and I'm a Slytherin. It'd never work out." Pansy put her silver tongue to work, it was like she said: she was a Slytherin after all. There was a problem with that of course, her bunkmates were Slytherins too, and they recognized the application of deception as well as Pansy applied it–even Millicent.

"I want to see more of Potter being amazing." Miss Bulstrode said. "So I'll join your club."

"Me too," Tracey agreed, tossing her hat in.

Daphne gave a final look towards the other boys before leaning in. "Me too, it's better than having to stick up for those boys." Most of them still scared of Harry as much as they loathed him.

Pansy was all smiles. She now had the beginnings of a base, but word had to spread a little further and among a few more girls before she could openly move–and take her place at Harry's side. That wouldn't be too hard, would it?

_"I should give him a nice gift or several for Christmas."_She sincerely noted to herself.

* * *

November was gone, and Christmas was drawing close for the Hogwarts. A snowstorm that blew up over a week had dumped several feet of snow on the school, turning the Common Rooms and Great Hall into great bastions of warmth and comfort while the corridors were a frozen Hell worthy of Lucifer. It wasn't uncommon to see students–particularly the Muggle-born–commuting between classes in gloves and earmuffs to the amusement of the Slytherins who were too proud to admit they were suffering in the cold and the Muggle-born had the right idea.

Worst of all was Snape's classroom, or so Harry determined, for several reasons. First and foremost, Snape appeared to take great pleasure in the shivering complaints of his students in the frozen dungeon which was the second of his reasons. The third reason, though not a particular issue was an annoyance, Malfoy was keen to lob shots at Harry now that Christmas Break was coming.

"You know, it'll be nice to go home this break and spend time with my loving Mum and Dad." Draco said aloud to his bookends. Crabbe snickered, while Goyle raised his nose smugly and smirked. "Is there nothing better than to have a family to go home to after being away for so long?"

Harry ignored the insult as he measured out a potion. Of course, Snape turned a deaf ear to Draco's taunting, and more closely watched Potter for a reaction, any opportunity to dock points. Harry was actually pretty sure if he did nothing, that Snape would dock him points for "Being a pussy and not standing up for himself". Man, that would piss him right off, too, but it'd be pretty funny.

Hermione and Ron, who had paired up with Harry, were less tolerant of Draco's needling and shot dark looks to him with every other word that came out of his mouth. Ron was certain that the point loss would be worth walking over to Draco and punching that smug look off his face, but Hermione was a little more reserved–after all she was taking her patience from Harry.

"I think the only thing worse than having no family to go back to, would be to have a family that didn't want you back." Draco sniped. Ron bristled, Hermione frowned, and Harry tapped his quill on his paper as he rolled his eyes. "But I'm sure no one knows what that's like."

Draco then called over. "Right, Potter?"

Harry looked to the ceiling and then shook his head before returning to his work. Draco was the most annoying little twat on Earth, not even worth a threatening gaze. He wasn't going to hold what he knew he would become against him though. He was still just a kid, just a spoiled, prissy, bitch. If he responded, he was giving Draco the power.

"Well I could think of something worse." Draco then said as he caught Ron's stink-eye. "Going home to a garbage dump is far worse than any of that, right Weasel?"

Ron prepared to rise from his seat to rearrange Draco's face manually and then automatically, when Harry and Hermione both stopped him. That was crossing a line, and Harry turned his attention to Draco. "Ron, you _owe_ it to yourself to not respond. You wouldn't want to incur some kind of _debt_to Gryffindor by losing us points, would you?"

Staring at Harry, Ron smiled and then nodded. "You're right Harry, thanks for pointing that out. I _owe_you one."

Hermione covered her hand with her mouth to hide the smile on her face when she saw the look on Draco's. Being reminded of his debt made him go green and pale at the same time and elicited snickers from nearly all of those in the know–which amounted to every student in class. Harry gave Ron a smile.

"Relax, Ronald my good boy, it's not like you have a _Wizard's Debt_or anything to me." Harry assured him. As a laugh was had at Draco's expense, he looked almost desperately to Snape to intervene and punish Gryffindor for making him look a fool. All he received from Snape was a look before he went back to observing the other students.

As embarrassment returned color to Draco's features, a particularly harsh set of giggles came from one place that was surprising everyone lately, the section of Slytherin girls that was led by Pansy. There was no questioning who they were laughing at, which had first shocked most Slytherins when it became apparent.

While Pansy and her clique had become less than supportive of Draco, they were by no means fans of Gryffindor. They still had their sharp barbs for everyone else but Harry, and that agitated the Gryffindor female population the most–especially Hermione.

Turning her attention away from the other girls, she leaned close to Harry. "Did you say something to Pansy recently?"

Harry looked over to her. "How recent, I haven't spoken to Pansy since the first match."

Hermione frowned; he hadn't mentioned any encounter with Pansy to her. "Harry, what did you say to her?"

Harry played it off rather coolly. "I just cleared her debt with me, why?"

"Well…" Hermione paused for a moment when Ron suddenly directed his attention to the conversation. "…I think she likes you."

Ron made a face. "Parkinson?"

"Well we did save her life." Harry pointed out.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes and she's been very grateful for it…to you."

Not once had Pansy, since then, acknowledged any role Hermione and Ron had in saving her life. It was par for the course, but they both still had their pride about it and didn't enjoy it being trod upon. Hermione got closer to Harry and whispered in his ear. "I would like it if you avoided her, okay?"

Harry glanced at her. "Jealous?"

He had to admit, it was really cute how her whole face went red like that. "N-no, I'm just looking out for you, Harry!" She harshly whispered back.

Ron snickered as Hermione pulled away from Harry, her hands over her face in a desperate attempt to hide her blush. Harry patted her on the back and just smiled gaily. "Come on, back to the potions before Snape docks us."

If he'd been worried about that, he had another thing coming. As with Draco's plea, Snape avoided intervening or interrupting. Much more important than any of that was observing Potter and his interactions with the other students, and Snape was coming to a conclusion that he was having trouble believing. Still, he wasn't going to act on his findings just yet, Potter needed more observation.

* * *

With Potions out of the way, Harry was in a hurry to get out of the frigid dungeon, with Hermione and Ron hot on his heels. "Some indoor heating could not hurt, seriously!" Harry complained.

"I agree! There is no way that is an environment conductive to learning!" Hermione griped with him before blowing into her shaking hands and rubbing them together.

Ron brought up the rear, bemused by his friends' complaints. "I don't know what you're on about, The Burrow gets colder than that on a bad night and it doesn't bother me."

Stopping at the top of the stairs, Harry and Hermione stared down at Ron. As far as Harry was concerned, Ron was telling the truth, but Hermione was in disbelief. Harry then spoke. "If I ever sleep at your house, I'm bringing an electric blanket."

Harry sleeping over at his house, Ron thought, would be pretty awesome, but he digressed. "What's that, an electric blanket?"

"It's a heated blanket, Ron." Hermione said. "Muggles use them when they don't have central air."

Ron stared. "Central air?"

The Half-Blood raised by Muggles and the Muggle-Born looked down at the Pure Blood who knew nothing of the conveniences enjoyed by his compatriots, and then turned to each other to acknowledge it'd be a long time before he ever would. Harry then smiled. "You know what, Ron? Maybe this summer you should come spend some time in the Muggle World with me and Hermione, it could be very…"

…Hilarious, embarrassing, and worthy of filming over and over? Hermione agreed on all of those counts and it went without saying. "…Enlightening!" She said. "There's quite a lot to be learned about Muggles."

Up came Pansy and her friends, catching the last part of the conversation. Being the opportunistic one, she did not hesitate to kill two birds with one stone verbally. "Enlightening indeed, because living among dogs is an improvement over pigs."

Pansy met a disapproving stare from Harry, and her smile fell off her face. Before awkwardness could set in, a large pine tree began to shuffle past the stairs on two very large feet. Turning their attention to the scene, Harry looked at said feet before he turned back up to the tree. "Hello Hagrid, do you need some help?"

"That's a big tree." Hermione said in awe as she forgot about Pansy and her friends and tried to circle round it.

"Yeah it is…" Ron agreed wholeheartedly.

"Oh don't worry about me; I've got it right under control!" Hagrid said before tilting the tree aside so he could get a better look at the wee ones. "This is the last tree I need to get to the Great Hall."

Harry looked back towards Pansy and her friends, and found them making a quick retreat. Pansy returned his look, and smiled before leaving his sight. He shook his head and looked over to Hagrid. Hermione had caught the look he and Pansy exchanged, and soured at that more than she had at the insult. Ron had missed the whole thing. "So the Christmas decorations are almost done?"

"Aye, natch." Hagrid replied. "Only took an hour to get the trees up here, Flitwick and McGonagall should be done with most of the hard stuff, ha, ha!"

The three children fell into step with Hagrid, as he lumbered on to the Great Hall and entered it. They found a wintry wonderland greeting them, the warm Great Hall was alit with numerous candles, icicles, and snowflakes decorating the ceiling and the trees lined up about the room. Holly and mistletoe hung about the ceiling and walls, it was an entirely festive and pleasant scene.

"It's beginning to feel a lot more like Christmas now." Harry said before he looked up above Hermione's head. He couldn't help a grin, as he edged closer to her. Hagrid, as per Flitwick's instructions, was setting up the last tree as he looked back to the kids.

"Aye, so how long until holidays, kids?" He asked.

"I'm staying here over the holiday." Harry said.

Ron noticed a plate of cookies. "Me too, I want to hang out with Harry."

"Just one more day and then I'm off on holiday with my parents." Hermione replied. Ron headed over to the Christmas Cookies that had been set out and had been raided by McGonagall repeatedly over the course of her decorating.

Hagrid laughed. "Is that so, where you off to?"

Hermione hardly noticed the distinct lack of Harry's presence as she answered. "Someplace warm for once, my mother mentioned Florida and that I'd need a swimsuit."

"Florida, been there once." Hagrid said as he installed the Christmas tree. "It really is the most magical place on Earth."

"Florida?" Ron asked as he was about to bite into a cookie.

"Disney World, specifically." Hagrid replied, a big smile from fond memories on his face.

Ron looked perplexed. "Huh."

Hermione couldn't imagine seeing Hagrid at such a place, but the picture she created in her head was nevertheless amusing. Harry then tapped on her shoulder, and she looked in that direction. There was no one there. She immediately looked the opposite way. "Harry, what-?"

Her eyes flew wide when Harry's lips met hers in a quick, open-mouthed kiss. Professor Flitwick, who'd seen Harry the whole time let out a laugh and wish he had a camera, while Professor McGonagall reacted with surprise as much as Hermione did. It was over as quickly as it started, and Hermione was frozen like stone.

Harry smiled to her, before he noticed her reaction. "Ah the mistletoe, look up Hermione."

Hermione did indeed look up, and the blush his kissing her triggered grew even brighter before she looked back to him. Ron, who had his back to both his friends, looked back with half a cookie in his mouth and saw Hagrid trying not to burst into guffaws while Harry smiled warmly to Hermione, whose face was now entirely red. With his mouth full, he asked. "What just happened?"

Hermione went absolutely haywire. Harry had just kissed her, in front of Ron, Hagrid, and two teachers! She wanted to be mad, oh she wanted to be absolutely furious at him but…he was smiling at her, and it was absolutely wonderful. Fighting the smile on her own face, Hermione pointed an accusing finger at him.

"You…you kissed me!" She said.

Ron bit the cookie in his mouth and swallowed it. "Harry, you kissed her?"

Harry pointed up. "There's mistletoe."

"Oh, well then that's fine." Ron said, and he went back to eating his cookies. McGonagall resisted laughing.

"Ron!" Hermione yelled at him before turning back to Harry. He was still smiling, and it was really cute–no! He had embarrassed her. "I don't care if its tradition, you don't just kiss a girl without warning!"

"But I wanted to." Harry replied. Flitwick laughed again while Hagrid disguised a laugh (poorly) as a cough.

Okay, she admitted that she didn't feel nearly as embarrassed as the shy and fidgety girl inside wanted to feel, Harry _wanted_to kiss her…an amazing person like him wanted to kiss a know-it-all bossy mudblood like her. Fidgeting where she stood, she gave up on her smile and then giggled a bit. "Oh, well…thank you…"

Professor McGonagall shook her head, though she did find it cute. "Honestly you children! You're far too young to be carrying on like that."

"I'm sorry, Professor." Harry said, though he wasn't really sorry. Hermione touched her fingers to her lips and stifled another giggle. Seeing her spirits raised, Harry felt better about the Pansy thing, a lot better. Of course, this presented the question…did he just cock-block Ron? He hoped not.

* * *

The days passed and holiday set in, Hermione and many of the students went off to enjoy their holiday with family and with no classes Harry found himself engaging in Snowball Fights and other mischief to pass the time between his studies. Like he recalled, he had taken up Wizard's Chess against Ron and found that he was no better than his future self, facing one crushing defeat after another, some in less than ten moves. No, Ron was no joke.

Christmas Day came, and when Harry woke up there was a small hill of Christmas Presents at the foot of his bed. It was substantially larger than what he remembered before, but there were reasons for that. Pulling open his curtain, he already found Ron rifling through his presents, which compared to his constituted a mountain. "Good morning Ron!"

"Hey Harry." Ron saw the haul Harry received and smiled. "Nice haul you got there."

Harry smiled and went straight for one of the largest of the presents. He picked it up and read the tag. "Oh, this one's from Tonks. 'Merry Christmas you little shit, I found it at a Muggle Toy Store, I hope you like it'."

"Tonks?" Ron asked, intrigued as Harry wasted no time in unwrapping it. "A Muggle toy store, huh? What'd she get you?"

He found out sure enough, it was s a Lego set for something called "Star Wars". Harry blinked. "Wow, a Lego Millennium Falcon."

Ron immediately hopped off his bed and walked over. "A what?" He stared at the box and the weird thing on the art and the space theme. "…Wicked, what does it do?"

"Well it's a building block kit." Harry quickly set it aside. "I didn't think Tonks knew about that Muggle stuff."

Ron sat down and just stared at the box, immediately and immensely intrigued by the prospect of what it held within. Harry unwrapped his next present, a flute carved by Hagrid that made a sound like an owl when he blew into it. "I hope Hagrid likes what I got him."

Ron looked from the box. "What did you get him?"

Harry smiled. "I got him something made in Russia and only for adults."

Whatever that could be, Ron had no interest in it. He looked to Harry's next gift. "Oh, I see Mum made you something."

Harry looked at the lumpy package in the nice wrappings that could've only come from a woman who had developed skills in gift-wrapping over a long time. When he opened it, it was a well-knit sweater, and some fudge. "Oh thank God a Sweater." Harry wasted no time in putting it on. "I'm wearing it under my robes for the rest of winter."

Ron gave Harry an odd look and shook his head. Really, the boy needed to get a little more thick-skinned about the cold, he'd never last a night at The Burrow in winter. He noticed several similarly wrapped presents all in plain brown paper. "Oi, Harry who's this one from?"

Quite business-like, Harry opened the note and read it aloud. "Enclosed is your Christmas Present. P.S., you owe me two hundred-thirty pounds for it."

Harry couldn't help a laugh at that, and he opened the present. Its contents intrigued Ron more than the gift from Tonks. Ron stared at it. "What…what is it?"

Harry tossed the wrapping paper aside. "This is a laptop computer, a Muggle device." He opened one of the boxes that came with it and read its note. "From what I was told there's no electricity at that God-Awful place, so I got you this. P.S., That's three hundred-fifty pounds owed for this."

It was a Solar Energy collector, Harry was impressed. "Wow, he put a lot of thought into this. But what good is a laptop and power without…" He stopped and opened the last package, and stared. "A satellite modem, this is amazing."

Ron was completely baffled at this Muggle stuff Harry received. "Harry, what is all of this?"

Harry read the note. "This was the most expensive piece, be ready to pay when you're done with school. That's five hundred pounds, Merry Christmas, boy. P. S, I already had that old poofter look at it, it should work just fine with all that magic about."

"Laptop, modem, solar energy collector…" Ron shook his head in amazement. "…Muggle stuff is so weird. So when are you going to open it up and show me how it all works?"

"Later Ron, let me see my other stuff first." Harry set aside the computer equipment, and found an envelope attached to another wrapped up gift. "Huh…from the Parkinson Estate…"

As Ron read the back of the laptop box and tried to make sense of what he was reading, Harry opened and read the letter sent to him from the Parkinson Estate. His brows rose. "Well…"

It was all Greek to Ron, and sure enough he gave up before looking to Harry. "Who's that from?"

"The Parkinson Family sent it." Harry said as he opened the gift it came with, "They wanted to thank me for saving Pansy from the troll, that's all."

It was a black and green-striped scarf that felt softer than any material Harry ever felt before…even more so than the very inviting sweater given to him by Mrs. Weasley. "Wow…this is quite a scarf…"

He draped it around his neck, and admired the texture of the material against his skin. Ron made a face. "If it's a gift from Pansy it might have poison all over it or worse, a Love Potion." He teased. It was bad enough it was in Slytherin colors.

"Relax, Ron. It's a gift of gratitude, there's nothing harmful about that." He said as he picked up another box. "Huh?"

It was a wooden box a little over a foot long exquisitely carved and detailed. A tag taped to it simply said "For Harry". Opening it, Harry smiled broadly when he found its contents: a long Muggle Combat Knife, affixed with a self-sharpening charm. There was no note, but Harry knew who it was from and needed nothing else. Ron peered down at the knife alongside Harry, his eyes wide.

"A Ka-Bar, nice…" He whispered.

"Whoa, Harry…who sent that?" Ron asked in awe as Harry removed the knife and the sheath it came with. Examining the carbon steel blade, he weighed it in his hands before tossing it up, over his head, and catching it with frightening dexterity by the flat of the blade. Ron immediately backed up, not wanting to risk being cut.

"A teacher from before I came to Hogwarts, who taught me how to defend myself. Only he would send something like this to me." Sheathing the knife, Harry set it aside and opened Hermione's gift, which was unexpected. It wasn't the chocolate frogs that he had received before, but a book. "Huh…"

It was a photo album, showcasing Hermione's vacation in Florida, both with magical moving pictures and regular Muggle photographs. They were the typical vacation fare: playing on the beach, walking around Disney World, and riding a roller coaster (the moving versions of those were especially neat). But the last picture in the book was Hermione sitting on the beach and watching the waves roll in. Written in the corner, in cheesy fashion, was "Wish you were here, Merry Christmas Harry".

"Harry and Hermione sitting in a tree…" Ron teased from over Harry's shoulder. "…K-I-S-S-I-N-G."

Harry closed the book up, and glared back at Ron. Ron laughed and patted him on the shoulder. "What? It's just how I see it, Harry!"

"I guess…" Harry set that gift aside with care before going to his last gift. Opening it with care, he held it up and Ron forgot about the book and his teasing Harry about it immediately. The Cloak of Invisibility shimmered before both boys, as Harry held it up before draping it over himself.

"Wow, an Invisibility Cloak! Those are super rare." Ron said as Harry pulled it off himself.

Harry picked tag that came with the cloak, and read it.

"You know what you have to do."

Harry smiled, and then crumpled the tag up in his hand before setting the cloak aside.

"Well, I think that's everything," he said to Ron, "Want to get your presents opened and see what you got?"

Ron grinned. "Are you kidding? They're the same boring gifts I get every year! Come on; show me how your gifts work, man!"

Harry let out a small laugh, and picked up the laptop box. "Alright, help me get this set up Ron and I'll introduce you to the greatest achievement in Muggle History, the Internet."

"The what?" All these new Muggle terms, Ron felt he was going to need a dictionary for all of them.

Laughing, Harry began to open the box. "You'll see, help me clear a spot okay?"

Ron nodded and the two boys quickly got to work setting up Harry's new toys. The rest of the day, save breakfast, lunch, and dinner, was then wasted on what Christmas Day was really meant for, playing with gifts, sharing a meal with good friends, and forgetting about your troubles of the past year.

In an unused room deep in the restricted area of Hogwarts, the Mirror of Erised sat undisturbed.

* * *

Malfoy Manor, a cold, cruel December wind blew across its dreary, snow-buried courtyard. As a piercing moonlight illuminated the soaring mansion in an eerie glow, a solitary figure trudged through the knee-deep snow towards the front doors. A stream of condensed air shot from its mouth with every step, the exertion of trudging through the snow was something he was not used to. Why walk, after all, when one could apparate? But no, he was not permitted to; he would not be granted that mercy…his long walk was one of atonement.

He would not fail again–his Lord would not allow him to. He would not be defeated by the boy, not when success was so close. The stone awaited him, but Potter could stand in his way, and what was worse…Potter was strong.

Harry Potter had to be destroyed at all costs, or Lord Voldemort's resurrection would be in jeopardy. Quirinus Quirrel would not dare fail his master.

Trudging up the stairs, Quirrel reached the doors and pounded on them with might that was not his own. Silence ensued, before the twin doors flew open, and Lucius Malfoy stood before him, eyes narrowed in cold fury. It was the middle of the night. "Who are you, and what business do you have in my home?"

He stopped when he recognized the shivering, partially frost-bitten man. "Quirinus Quirrel, what are you doing here?"

"M-M-Mr. Malfoy…we have business to d-d-discuss…" He said, his teeth chattering violently.

Lucius sneered. "What business do I have with you, Mr. Quirrel?"

Quirrel reached for his left sleeve and yanked it back, before holding it up for Lucius to see. The Malfoy patriarch's eyes widened when he saw the mark burned into his arm. "You were never a…"

He trailed off, when a second voice spoke. "Lucius…we have much to discuss…"

Were he not at the peak of health, Lucius would've fallen over from a heart-attack where he stood. Gripping the door frame, he stared at Quirrel like he was seeing a ghost, and slowly nodded. "Very well, come in…my Lord."

Christmas was not to be kind to the Malfoy Family.

* * *

A/N: Merry Christmas to all you Merry Readers, and say a Christmas Prayer for the Malfoys...they'll need it.


	8. Book 1: The Cowardly and Courageous

Disclaimer: And a happy New Year to you, SirKaid

**HI-POWER: Harry Is Pissed Off With Everyone's Rubbish**

The Cowardly and Courageous

_Those who you hide behind and those who stand behind you are two different people._

**[7.]**

Harry looked around, disoriented for a moment, as he walked through a dark hallway, the wooden floor creaking softly beneath his feet. He quickly realized where he was, even in the low ambient light. He was in the hallway of 12 Grimmauld Place, ground floor going by the covered portrait and the mounted elf-heads that were lined alongside it. Carefully making his way past the curtained portrait, Harry quietly approached the source of the low light, a single lamp from the library. When he entered it, he stopped at what he found.

It was him, himself, the future Harry. He looked unchanged from that fateful day he received these memories, but he seemed even more…disheveled. His hair was even shaggier and unkempt than it was in the reflection, and he sported a beard not unlike Sirius's. He was sunken into a chair, staring into a glass of whiskey he held in hand above his lap. Seeing himself in this state shook Harry, and he took a step back.

"What do you desire more than anything?" The older Harry said, as he stirred the whiskey with a gentle rocking of the glass. The younger Harry stopped, and stared back at him.

"We both know that answer." The younger Harry replied.

Stopping the motion, the older Harry watched the amber liquid swirl on at the bottom of the glass. "It won't work." He lamented in a lightly slurred voice, denoting a severe inebriation. "It's a just desperate attempt to rebel against everything. Funny how I couldn't stand up for myself until they were all gone and have nothing but everything I fought for to rail against. I'm pathetic."

"Then why?" The younger Harry asked.

"I don't really know anymore." The older Harry gripped the glass in his hand. "I guess because…back then I had no other choice in the matter. I had to be a Hero; I had to be deprived of everything, and forged from 'The-Boy-Who-Lived' to 'The-Man-Who-Killed-Voldemort'."

He brought the glass up, as though to drink, but paused. "Dumbledore took no stock in it, though. He didn't see a warrior or a savior of the Wizarding World in me, just an orphaned child deprived of his childhood. He tried so hard to give that to me, but even he could only watch as it was quickly chipped away…and I was left without even him in the end."

He then took a sip of the glass, and the younger Harry looked downward at the floor, tense. "The most powerful wizard of our times could not defy so-called destiny and died for even attempting–just another casualty of fate. When I lost my right to choose, He took everything away. Not just from me, but from everyone I fought for, and now I am here in this place…wondering if it can be done over again, and if it would be even worth it?"

The glass slipped from his grasp a bit. The younger Harry raised his head. "We both know the answer."

"But is it the right one?" His older counterpart asked.

Pondering this, the younger Harry's expression hardened. "The choice isn't mine to find out now, is it?"

Clarity cut through the older Harry's inebriation, and his eyes widened behind his round-rimmed spectacles. A sardonic smile creased his lips, as he lowered the scotch glass. He let out a bitter laugh.

"…Fuck."

* * *

Harry sat awake, and blinked quickly as awareness rapidly returned to him. He wasn't in 12 Grimmauld Place anymore, but rather the warm and welcoming Gryffindor Common Room. He looked down and found notes for potions class in his lap, and then looked up. Sitting directly in front of him, Ron and Hermione stared at Harry in curiosity; they were still in the midst of their Wizard's Chess game that he'd fallen asleep in the middle of watching between his note reviewing. Hermione of course, was still getting massacred.

"You know you really should pay better attention Harry, you could learn something from Hermione." Ron pointed out. Indeed Hermione was getting creamed, but she was doing better than Harry certainly ever could. They were on the fiftieth or so move, a point Harry couldn't even get to half to even in his best game.

Harry yawned and shook his head. "Playing chess and watching chess are two different things I guess, and if you're studying too it's a perfect recipe for…" He slumped over, and began snoring loudly.

"Ha, ha." Ron chided, as Harry broke into a smile.

Hermione rolled her eyes at the exchange. "You have been having trouble staying awake lately, Harry. Is there something going on?"

Harry sat up and put away his notes. "No, Captain's been working my arse off on the pitch for the next match. Since Snape is going to be referee and all, we're focusing on ending the match as soon as possible and for that I need to find the Snitch first."

Ron and Hermione, as well as a few present Gryffindors reacted to the news of Snape's interest to referee the upcoming match vs. Hufflepuff accordingly, with groans and frustrated remarks of disbelief. Ron was especially vocal. "That's total garbage, why would Snape want to be referee all of a sudden?"

"He probably wants to get some payback after Slytherin's little meltdown in the first match." Though she had a deeper suspicion than that, but they could talk about it later.

Moving a piece on the board, Ron folded his arms. "Of course that snake Snape would suddenly usurp the status of supervisor to sabotage his students' adversaries."

Hermione stared at him. "…Was…was that an attempt at being poetic?"

Ron shrugged his shoulders. "There's a whole bunch of crazy stuff about wordplay and such on the internet, I tried it out. It's actually really interesting."

Hermione looked at Harry. "Keep him on the internet, I like this."

"Using the internet is practically all he does now." Harry grumbled back. "I've only used my computer twice in the last three weeks because he insists on playing chess online against people."

Turning to Ron, Hermione gave him a disapproving look. Ron shrugged his shoulders; it was mostly Harry's fault anyway. Whenever he had the chance to play with his computer he was either building his Lego Millennium Falcon or practicing knife fighting–not that he was going to tell Hermione about that, she'd probably freak out.

Before he could defend himself beyond a shrug however, Neville came stumbling in–bunny-hopping with his legs locked together while trying to keep from falling on his face. He took about two such hops and then failed miserably at the not falling on his face thing.

"Ow." He groaned as everyone burst into laughter, except the ever compassionate Hermione, who rose to her feet and cast a charm to free his legs. "Thanks Hermione…"

Harry hummed; it would seem that he could still set his watch to Draco despite everything. Hermione was quick to begin the interrogation as she brought him over to where she had been seated with her friends. "Who did this to you, Neville?"

"Malfoy, I ran into him in front of the library and he tried it out on me. He said he needed someone to practice on." Neville said as he sniffled softly.

Hermione bristled in anger. "Then we'll go see Professor McGonagall and report him! That's just mean!"

"No, it's alright…" Neville replied. "I don't want anymore trouble."

"Don't let him walk all over you, stand up for yourself!" Ron said resolutely. "Be the barrier that his belligerence breaks upon!"

Neville sniffed again and then rubbed his nose; he had hurt it in falling. "Let's face it; I'm not brave enough to be a Gryffindor; Draco even said that. I'm just a cowardly squib; Filch has more magic ability in his finger than I do in my whole body."

Blood dribbled from his right nostril, and Hermione let out a gasp. "Your nose is bleeding!"

Well that kindly tore it with Harry, and he rose to his feet before producing two things: His cloak of invisibility, and a chocolate frog that he quickly handed off to Neville. "You're worth twelve of Malfoy, Neville. You're the nicest kid I know and all the girls like you, while Malfoy's just a rotten twit who thinks he can get away with anything."

Neville blushed at the mention of girls liking him. It was true, with Lavender and Parvati especially nice to and supportive of him. Hermione watched Harry wrap the invisibility cloak around his self and got up as well. "I'm going with you."

"Then let's go." Harry looked to Ron. "You're coming?"

"Of course, why wouldn't I?" Ron wanted nothing more than to beat the stuffing out of Draco. He patted Neville on the shoulder. "We'll be right back."

Neville nodded and continued eating his chocolate frog, as Lavender seemed to materialize at his side with some tissue in hand while Parvati expressed dismay at his condition. Seems they didn't find him falling on his face funny either. He then called after Harry. "Don't you want your card?"

"No, keep it!" Harry called back before he disappeared through the portal.

* * *

In the hallway leading to the library, Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle were still having a laugh over how goofy Neville had looked hopping around like a lame fool. Inside the Library, Pansy had a front row seat to the trio cracking their jokes about Neville's misfortune, and as she watched Draco laugh all high and mightily she let out a disinterested sigh. The rest of The Unofficial Slytherin Harry Potter Appreciation Committee, the title decided among Pansy and her bunkmates, were similarly aloof towards the boys' behavior. Sure, having a laugh at Longbottom's expense was fine and all…but…it just seemed so juvenile and most un-Harry-like.

"They could do better." Millicent judged. "Picking on a squib like Longbottom is too easy."

Tracey nodded in agreement. Pansy's brows rose when better game indeed came a marching in. Both the Weasel and Granger were storming toward Draco and his thugs, and looking quite cross. She smiled a bit, things were about to get interesting. Outside the library, Draco stopped laughing when Crabbe gestured to the arriving Gryffindors. He put in a sneer and stared them down.

"You have a lot of nerve, Malfoy!" Hermione opened fire before they even got into proper firing range.

Draco laughed. "Longbottom goes crying for help and the most he can get is the know-it-all and her dull-witted manservant?"

Ron lunged forward to grab Draco but the larger Crabbe and Goyle stepped up. He stopped but didn't back down. "Who do you think you are, picking on a guy like him? He doesn't bother anybody!"

Draco sneered and looked down his nose at Ron. "It's not my fault he's so pathetic. At least, he knows to crawl off with his tail between his legs when we're done with him."

Hermione prepared to draw her wand when he amended. "Or should I say 'hop off'?"

Ron tried to shove his way past Crabbe and Goyle, and both shoved back, pushing him into Hermione. "You wouldn't be so tough without your boyfriends hanging all over you, Malfoy!"

Pansy snickered at that; okay the Weasel had a considerable wit. Daphne hid her own laugh when she saw all three Slytherin boys get very cross at the insinuation. Goyle grabbed Ron by his collar. "Who are you calling a poof, Blood Traitor?"

"Better a Blood Traitor that a bloody arse-bandit!" Ron snapped back.

Hermione didn't exactly approve of the gay insults, but they seemed to work. A little too well given that Goyle was about to punch Ron's lights out. She looked past Crabbe, who was also glaring at Ron, to Draco, who had recovered quickest from the insult and was smiling darkly at the beating Ron was to be delivered. She quickly tried to break them up.

"Get your hands off him, you ape!" She growled before she and Ron shoved him back together.

Crabbe then stepped in, grabbing Hermione by the arm and yanking her away from Ron. Draco laughed as Goyle continued the shoving match with Ron. "You're an even bigger coward than Longbottom if you need a girl to fight for you!"

"I've beaten up blokes twice your size!" He boasted, in reference to his older brothers and the many battles they had. Before the hostilities go turn into actual punches, however, Harry suddenly grabbed Draco's shoulder and spun him around into a wall, causing him to cry out in fright when he saw the fist raised and ready to plunge into his nose.

"If there's anyone that knows about being a coward," Harry said in a frigid tone, "It's you Malfoy."

Draco shriveled right on the spot, closing his eyes and raising his hands to protect his face with pitiful whimpers. Both Crabbe and Goyle were as shocked as Pansy and the rest of the Unofficial Slytherin Harry Potter Appreciation Committee at his appearance out of thin air.

"Picking on a defenseless kid who goes out of his way to stay out of others' isn't just cowardly, it's disgusting. It's as sick as trying to kill a baby in his crib, and believe me Malfoy I know all about that and what happens to people who do it." He lowered his hand, and when Draco tried to steel himself up he raised his fist and reduced him again to a simpering wreck.

He turned his gaze to Crabbe and Goyle. "And you two ought to know what I'm capable of. Don't think that because I'm not around that means you can bully my friends." He let Draco go. "I will find out and I am not afraid to come after any of you."

Ron and Hermione backed up when Harry walked between both of Draco's bookends, hitting them both with an icy look as he passed them to join his friends. Ron smiled big to Harry. "That was wicked."

Harry looked over to Hermione, who wore a look that was part exasperation and part awe, and smiled as well. He could only give her credit for the inspiration. Pansy watched as Hermione smiled back and frowned–Granger was going to be an obstacle, one that she might have to deal with carefully. Her eyes widened when another person arrived on the scene, and she and the other girls quickly looked away.

"Is s-something the matter?" Professor Quirrel asked. The cowardly lot of the Slytherin boys quickly did what they did best.

"Potter and his lot attacked me!" Draco immediately accused, smiling behind his visage of fright.

Professor Quirrel looked to the other children. "Is this true?"

As Ron and Hermione quickly tried to defend their actions, Goyle caught on. "Potter had Malfoy against the wall, and he was going to start punching him but we got him off."

The Unofficial Slytherin Harry Potter Appreciation Committee grew even further disenchanted as they watched this, and Pansy was actually hoping for a non-Slytherin Professor to intervene. Professor Quirrel looked at Harry. "Mr. P-Potter, fighting in the school will not be tolerated, nor will bullying."

"Bullying? They're the ones who started it!" Ron vehemently argued, before he stopped and went pale. "Oh bugger."

Snape had arrived on the scene, and as always he was not amused. Quirrel quickly turned to him. "Oh, P-Professor Snape right on time…"

"Might I ask what the problem is this time, Professor Quirrel?" Snape asked in his ever present aloofness.

"W-well you see Mr. Potter attacked Draco and he-." Quirrel was silenced by a raised hand from Snape, before he looked down between the two groups. He didn't need to hear anymore from him. Ron looked utterly sick to his stomach at the prospect of losing hundreds of points, while Hermione was entirely grim. Harry, however, was defiant, glaring at the three Slytherin boys who were now behind Quirrel and shooting them smug looks.

"Potter, what happened?" He asked, and surprised them all, even Harry.

"Ah?" Harry looked to Snape, and then towards Draco. "Malfoy hit Neville with a Leg-Locking curse, and I just came here to warn him not to do it again. I roughed him up, but I didn't actually hit him."

Snape looked to Draco, who was already spewing a denial back at Harry. "Accio."

Draco jumped when his wand suddenly left his robes and was caught in Snape's hand. "Is that the truth, Malfoy?"

"N-no!" Draco immediately protested. "I was minding my own business here and…!"

Snape produced his wand and tapped Draco's with it. "Priori Incantato."

Draco and his friends stared in horror as Locomotor Mortis suddenly appeared as the last spell Draco used, while Harry, Ron, and Hermione wondered together if they had perhaps fallen into some bizarre world where things were going their way. Snape brought them all back to reality at once. "For causing a disturbance in the hallway that will be ten points off from both Gryffindor and Slytherin. And a further five off from Slytherin for using spells on other students without their consent. Malfoy will also be barred from flying in his next Quidditch match."

Harry and his friends were stunned, but the look on Draco's face replaced that shock with all-consuming satisfaction. Snape then gave the children his harshest stare. "Now all of you hurry off to your common rooms before I do far worse."

"Yes Professor." Harry said as he took Hermione and Ron by the arms and quickly beat a retreat, he wasn't going to look a gift horse in its mouth any longer than he had to. As his friends quickly turned and followed, however, Harry caught something that would cause him great concern however.

"Actually Professor S-Snape, I wanted to speak with Mr. M-Malfoy, about his t-tutoring…" Quirrel said quickly. Harry slowed down and looked back, and caught a glimpse of Quirrel explaining in his stuttering voice about Dark Arts Defense. Rather than incur Snape's wrath by sticking around, he continued his retreat. If he needed to, he'd find out later.

With the drama over, Pansy lowered her book and let out a long sigh.

* * *

A few days later, the first Quidditch Match of spring was set to begin. It was sunny and clear out, but the weather was still uncomfortably cool out and the trees had yet you grow their leaves out. Since spring had officially started Harry lamented to his friends often how by the time the weather would get up to something tolerable school would be over and it'd be back to the Dursleys. Not that he minded that, it did mean enjoying more Muggle pursuits until it was time for school. Still, the weather was currently the least of his concerns.

He opened his locker and went for his broom, and stared at it as he pondered whatever Quirrel could be up to. Apparently Quirrel had been tutoring Draco since the end of break, personal courses on Dark Arts Defense at the insistence of his Father, Lucius. It had even been cleared by Dumbledore, who sat on more than a few of the tutoring sessions–to aid in the tutoring of young Malfoy anyway he could. It appeared entirely and perfectly legit, and Harry didn't buy into any of it.

He looked to his side at the mirror on the inside of his locker door and at the reflection that stared back. It was certainly not his own. "He's using Draco for something."

"Be very careful of him, and hope he does not fall to darkness." The reflection replied.

"There's only so much sitting in on the sessions can do." Harry said of Dumbledore's assisting Quirrel. "Sure it stops Quirrel from teaching him actual Dark Arts, but I've been to the classes where they're alone, he's teaching him curses."

"Hmm…has he made any mention of you-know-who?" The face in the mirror asked.

"No." Harry grimaced. "The most logical explanation would be that he's training him to be able to match me, fat lot of good that'll be able to do Malfoy."

The face in the mirror was silent at that, but for only a moment. "Be very cautious around Draco. When you-know-who makes his move, he may use him to stop you from interfering at any cost, if he sees you as any real threat."

"Why Draco, why not someone I actually care for?" Harry retorted.

"Why indeed? Think for a moment, Harry, on what sort of person that he is. He's betting on some kind of confrontation, and what that will do to you." The mirror answered. "I'm confident it will not come to that, however…"

Harry grinned into the reflection. "Prepare for the worst, because it can and will go bad."

"That's my boy." The reflection said before Fred called after Harry.

"Hey, we know you're sexy and all but we got a match to win!" He teased before running out.

Harry looked back to the mirror and found only his own reflection. Smiling back at it, he ran his fingers through his hair. "Damn right I'm sexy, and I'm only eleven." He smugly pointed at his reflection. "Just you wait, ladies, it's only gets better from here."

God he was so cheesy, but even he reserved the right to "ham it up" every once in a great while. Broom in hand he ran out to the pitch, where Hufflepuff and Gryffindor were meeting and amicably shaking hands.

The atmosphere was a lot less tense and thank goodness for it, everyone was looking forward to a good clean match and having fun–rather than awaiting some sort of no-holds-barred war as was the case against Slytherin. It raised Harry's spirits even higher. Then he saw Snape being his dour and morose self and it sort of killed it.

Up in the stands, Neville was sitting with both Parvati and Lavender, sharing a scarf with the former while the latter waved a Gryffindor flag. Down the row, Ron was snacking on some popcorn while Hermione whistled for Harry. Sitting back down, she looked down at Snape and then turned to Ron. "How long do you think it'll take for Harry to grab the Snitch?"

"Less than ten seconds." Ron replied.

"That long? I thought you had more faith in Harry." Hermione joked back before taking some of his popcorn.

"I do, but Harry has to actually acquire the Snitch and that might waste a second or two. I'm only being realistic." Ron explained.

Hermione took more of his popcorn. "Fair enough, Mr. Weasley."

"Thank you, Mrs. Potter." He teased, and got what he wanted in the form of Hermione erupting into a bright blush. He laughed and received a punch in the arm for it. "Ow!"

Present in the stands two rows up and purely for the best view of Harry, were Pansy and her friends. Overhearing the "Mrs. Potter" jab from Ron, Pansy grew a little indignant.

"Mrs. Potter, like Hell…" Pansy seethed. "…There's no way you're going to be Mrs. Potter."

Tracey, Daphne, and Millicent smiled and laughed among themselves before Crabbe and Goyle meandered down the row in front of them, while Draco ambled down their row. He stopped at Pansy, and smiled his smug smile to her and her girlfriends. "Hello Pansy."

Pansy looked up at him. "Hello Draco, what brings you all the way over here?"

"I could ask the same thing. Here to cheer on Potter?" He teased.

Pansy sniffed haughtily. "What if I am? Potter is pretty wicked."

The response she got from Draco was surprisingly caustic. "That'd make you a traitor to your house, wouldn't it?"

The other girls looked at Pansy, who immediately and sharply laughed. "The only traitors are worthless little boys who pretend to act high and mighty until their backs are to the wall and they whimper like children. Be gone, Malfoy."

His pride stung, Draco made a mental note to make Pansy regret ever saying that. He walked over to Crabbe and Goyle, now sitting in the row above Neville, Lavender, and Parvati and sat down. The two Quidditch teams were still on the field, exchanging pleasantries and generally annoying Snape with their exaggerated boasts about how awesomely they were going to win.

Before he or his friends could announce their presence, Parvati ambushed them. "Do you and your boyfriends have a problem Malfoy?" Yes, word of Ron's vicious little jibe had gotten quite a ways around. Hermione and Ron looked back.

"I'm not here to cause trouble." Draco lied through his teeth. "I just wanted to get a good seat in case Potter fell off his broom."

Both Crabbe and Goyle smarted from the cheap shot, and Parvati could see it. She snuggled closer to Neville. "Then go somewhere else for your view, Malfoy."

"He's just asking for it now." Ron said aside to Hermione as he turned back his attention to the pitch. The players were mounting their brooms. "About time…"

"Come on, Harry!" Hermione cheered, and a group of students waved a banner for Gryffindor. Draco felt a spike of indignation how they just waved him off as a nuisance. He put on a smug smile, and looked down at Neville.

"So you and Parvati are an item, huh Longbottom?" He asked.

"Ignore him." Parvati reassured Neville.

"Are you going to hold his hand for him Patil?" Goyle taunted. On the pitch Snape blew the whistle to start. Not a second later, Harry suddenly shot his hand out, and both teams and the ref began looking towards him in confusion.

Hermione blinked. "Wait, did Harry just…?"

Draco, not paying attention to the pitch, laughed. "Didn't think the brainless twits were your type, or is it because you feel sorry for him?" He looked towards Ron. "Why not the Weasel then, he's pretty sad too, not having any money and all."

Parvati brushed his attack off, while Neville turned and gave him an angry look. "I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy. Why don't you run away before Harry comes to give you what-for?"

"You mean so you can hide behind him like last time?" Draco shot back as Crabbe and Goyle laughed at his attempt at standing up for himself.

Neville didn't back down. In fact, he stood up and notched up his glare. "I don't need to hide behind anyone. I'm not you, Malfoy."

"That's right!" Lavender declared as she Parvati stood up with Neville.

"So why don't you and your boyfriends." Neville took a deep breath. "Go snog behind the stands!"

Goyle stopped laughing, grew incredibly angry, and promptly punched Neville in the face, sending him tumbling back over the students in the row in front of him as Snape reluctantly blew the end game whistle. He didn't expect for Parvati to lose it, swinging a punch right into his groin before the two Gryffindors who Neville fell onto, Seamus and Dean, realized what was going on and joined in, tackling Crabbe.

"Wow…" Ron said as Harry held up the Snitch, the din of the cheering crowds drowning out the din of the scuffle going on. "He caught the Snitch!"

"Well done, Harry!" Hermione called before she looked over to Ron and past him with wide eyes at the brawl that had broken out. "Ron, look!"

Ron turned and saw Parvati pounding on Goyle with her fists while Crabbe shoved Seamus back into Dean. More importantly, he saw Lavender trying to keep the unconscious Neville away from the fight. He was up in a second, climbing up to the row behind them before scrambling around gawking students and heading straight for…

"…Malfoy!" Draco, who'd been watching the fight from his perch about his heavies quickly turned when Ron shoved past another student and swung straight for his face, landing a hit right on his jaw and sending him stumbling back. As he recoiled for the hit, and it most certainly hurt, he quickly shot for his wand and raised it.

"Aguamenti!" He quickly cried out before Ron could deliver the second of the tried and true "Weasley One-Two", and a spray of water erupted from his wand with the force of a fire hose and sent Ron spilling and sputtering onto his back. Looking from his wand, he smiled. "You're all wet, Weasel."

He quickly flicked his wand over towards Parvati as Goyle finally managed to scramble across seats away from her. "Locomotor Mortis!"

On his command, Parvati let out a squeak and fell over as her legs seized up on her. Smirking, Draco twirled his wand and pointed it at Dean as Seamus took a knockout hit from Crabbe. Dean's eyes went wide as he went for his wand, but he wasn't fast enough.

"Everte Statum!" With the spell, Dean was sent tumbling backward, landing next to Hermione on his back. She looked from her dazed housemate to Draco and the smirk that was growing on his lips. "Not so tough without Potter to prop you up, are you?"

Before she could retort a crimson-colored blur shot past her. Jumping off the broom, Harry landed in a run along the seating and straight for Draco. His eyes quickly shot wide in fear when he saw the look of pure anger on Harry's face, and he tried to raise his wand for a spell, any spell! "P-Petrificus-!"

Harry's fist smashed into Draco's mouth, and the momentum of the blow sending him spinning before he fell face down onto the bench, unconscious.

All eyes were suddenly on him, as he stepped back from Draco and towards where Crabbe and Goyle were now standing. He needed to only give them a look, before he set upon them too, punching Crabbe with a right before swinging a left into Goyle, the former clutching his mouth in pain while the latter crumpled much like Draco. Picking up his broom, he looked back at the sight of the battlefield a final time before mounting it and flying straight for the Gryffindor locker rooms.

On the pitch Cedric Diggory watched as Harry disappeared inside before looking back to Oliver and his team. "Bloody Hell; was that really Potter just now?"

"It sure was…" Fred said.

George was looking up at the stand. "Draco Malfoy has stepped out."

Oliver just shook his head; he was far more worried about how this would affect Harry's future Quidditch career rather than the explosive violence he'd just displayed. He looked to Snape, who for once was less disdainful and more thoughtful for once, before realizing the longer they stood around, the better the chances they'd take the fall for this. "Enough of it, let's get going…"

"Quite." Snape then said. "Inform Potter that I will be seeing him in my office at once."

Tensing up at that, Oliver nodded before the two teams departed the Pitch. In the stands, the Prefects were at work getting the children moved. Hermione helped Parvati to her feet after removing the curse, and looked with her down at Draco, who was still out cold. More than Hermione, Patil couldn't believe what had just happened. She looked from him to her fellow Gryffindors.

"Harry, just like that." She said in disbelief.

Hermione nodded before she frowned upon Draco. "He brought it entirely on himself, the smug little snake."

"Bloody right." Ron agreed as he shook the water out of his hair.

Pansy and her friends said nothing of the fight, as they got up and left to join their housemates. Like with Harry, nothing needed to be said.

Draco had been warned enough.

* * *

Snape's office again, not even half an hour later, and Harry was sure he wasn't going to get off so easily this time. Professor McGonagall had threatened Harry with throwing him from the Quidditch Team for what he had done today and depending on what Snape's verdict was that could very well be his fate. When he entered the office, Snape was not seated behind his desk, but standing in front of it.

"Professor Snape…" Harry began as he steeled himself for whatever awaited him. He almost immediately felt the prying forces of Legilimency, but defended himself both by avoiding eye contact and shielding his thoughts. "I suppose you want to talk about the pitch."

"I've already spoken to those involved with the hooliganism. It was one of my house's students who threw the first punch, and it was Draco who used magic on other students. Admittedly it was nothing excessive, but still a grave violation." Snape explained, even as he tried to find a way in. It told Harry a lot.

"So what's going to happen to Malfoy and me, Professor?" Harry asked as he continued to ward Snape off. Snape narrowed his eyes at Harry's evasiveness, but maintained his aloof exterior.

"Against Goyle, Crabbe, and Malfoy I've deducted fifty points from Slytherin for the each of them. I will suggest to Professor McGonagall a deduction of five from Weasley, Patil, Finnigan, and Thomas for getting involved in the fight." Snape paused when he saw that his Legilimency wasn't having its intended effect. "As for you…I will deduct no points but at Dumbledore's suggestion, I will sentence you to detention for eight weeks. This will be comprised of you assisting Hagrid in game-keeping."

Harry remained cool; the endgame of the first year had now begun. He gave it no other thought when Snape sensed a shift in his thoughts, and successfully warded off another Legilimency probe. Sensing this, Snape tensed but just barely within Harry's notice. Harry then responded. "Yes, Professor Snape."

"Very well, now get out of my sight." Snape warned as he ceased his probing. "If I hear again that you started an altercation with Malfoy or any Slytherin, I will not be as lenient."

Harry stared at Snape curiously with that, before he nodded and left the office. Lenient, he said, eight weeks worth of detention is lenient? On the other hand, he could still play Quidditch, and he got to 'Knock Draco the Fuck Out'. As he left the office he chuckled, maybe he should let Ron get a look at that nigh impenetrable piece of African-Americana just for the look on his face.

As Harry let the door close behind him, Snape turned away from the door and gazed thoughtfully towards his desk. Walking towards it, he let out a quiet hum and rested his hand flat atop it. Potter was not who he seemed, there was no more doubt in his mind, but what was he? The boy was powerful and confident in his power rather than arrogant and reckless, and yet he played the role of the student almost too well. Strangely, it relieved Snape to find him like this, but at the same time it put him on edge.

Quirrel, the fool, had all but given himself away when Lucius suddenly insisted that he tutor his son in Dark Arts Defense. Draco was learning more offensive spells at an accelerated rate–granted with none of the discipline in using them as today showed–and Snape was certain the intention was to use him against Potter. If that was the case, did Potter know of the stone, was he aware of Quirrel's efforts?

"I give you rope Potter but you have no interest in hanging yourself with it." It was commendable; this young man was displaying character worthy of his respect–something his Father had never shown despite such a similar appearance. Nevertheless, Snape was not going to let his guard down so easily. Now that his suspicions were confirmed, Harry was to be watched and protected, even if he seemed strong enough to protect himself.

* * *

The sun had long gone down, casting the Forbidden Forest in pitch darkness. In a clearing, Draco leaned against a tree; still aching from the punch Harry had leveled him with, both in his face and his pride. It was time for another nightly tutoring lesson from Professor Quirrel, but he was far too angry from the day to care. Potter had punched him, and from what heard he wasn't even suspended from any Quidditch Matches. Meanwhile, he was banned from all of Slytherin's remaining matches, and made to look a complete fool.

"That damned squib." He groused. "That damned Potter…ow…"

He rubbed the bridge of his nose and grimaced in pain, before he heard rustling in the trees. He immediately rose to his feet in alert, and flattened himself against the tree to remain concealed. What lurked, a Blood-Sucking Bugbear? Or it could be an Acromantula–that would be very bad. He readied his wand and took a deep breath when he saw something large and menacing emerge from the trees, a large Acromantula, the size of a tiger, sizing him up for a meal.

"Look at you…alone in these woods…" The Acromantula hissed, its fangs clicking excitedly. "…Don't you know the rules…? You came out here…and now you will surely die…"

Draco gripped his wand in hand, but the gigantic spider was unafraid. "You're the youngest of them; you may as well try running…!"

It suddenly leaped at Draco, who then swiftly raised his wand. "DEPRIMO!"

A great downward force slammed down onto the leaping Acromantula, crushing it into the ground with a sickening crunch. Draco recoiled in horror at both the sight and the sound of the spider's dying scream, before swiftly looking away from the splattered corpse. Taking rapid, deep breaths, he shut his eyes tightly and shook his head before–with eyes still tightly shut–he hugged the trunk of the tree and crept away from the spider. He made it only two steps, before he felt someone grab him, and he let out a scream.

"Calm yourself, Draco." Professor Quirrel said as he rested both hands on Draco's shoulders. "It's just me."

"Professor, there was an Acromantula and-." Draco quickly began.

"I know, and I saw it. You took care of it swiftly and bravely." Quirrel released his grip on Draco's shoulder. "I see you also used a very fitting spell, Deprimo."

"Y-yes, exactly as you taught me." Draco replied, his heart still racing. Professor Quirrel walked over to the body of the dead spider and banished it off deeper into the woods, where its brothers and sisters would most certainly take care of it.

"I also saw your performance in the stands." Quirrel said after he cleaned up the last bits of the Acromantula. "You did splendidly, and you held back on those Gryffindors. That was very skillful of you."

At Quirrel's praise, Draco calmed and brightened. "Thank you, Professor."

Quirrel turned to him, and in the ambient light of the forest Draco thought he could see a gleam of sliver about his mouth. Catching notice of Draco's gaze, Quirrel wiped his mouth. "I think it is quite unfair that Potter received only detention for punching you, though."

That incensed Draco. "Well it is! The squib was making jokes about us; he had what he got coming. Then the rest of those Gryffindors…"

He clenched his fists. "If I wouldn't have been thrown out, I probably would've used worse than that."

Quirrel smiled. "There, there, Draco. Let's not get too angry at those helpless children. I'm tutoring you not for lowering yourself to their level, but for dealing with Potter. Once they see that they cannot hide behind him anymore, they'll lose their bravado."

Draco nodded, and smiled himself, bitterly. "Just a bunch of cowards, hiding behind their perfect Boy-Who-Lived…"

The mere mention of the title seemed to cause Quirrel pain, but he ignored it. "Now then…Draco, for our next courses, I want you to pay close attention. I'm going to be teaching you a new spell, a very powerful one."

"Can I beat Potter with it?" Draco asked excitedly. He was eager to do nothing else after today. Quirrel nodded.

"Now, this is very important, Draco. These spells I'm going to teach you have a dangerous power; you mustn't tell anyone of where you learned them or from whom. Use them only when absolutely appropriate." Quirrel said before he stepped back from Draco and produced his wand.

"What is the first spell?" Draco asked.

Quirrel turned around, and then raised his wand.

"Fiendfyre."

And an incredible living blaze roared to life, causing Draco to again jump back in fright. Between him and the writhing, roaring mass of flames, Quirrel stared into it and smiled serenely at the heat and anger of the flames, which soothed him as much as it did his Dark Lord carried within. In the trees above their heads, cloaked figures in golden masks and pointed hats watched the demonstration.

* * *

A/N: Death Eaters have come to Hogwarts...


	9. Book 1: Forest of Death

Disclaimer: You've waited this long, time to give you what you all came to read: Graphic Violence.

**HI-POWER: Harry Is Pissed Off With Everyone's Rubbish**

Forest of Death

_Let's get dangerous._

**[8.]**

Harry had grown concerned when a fire had erupted in the Forbidden Forest, and burned for two days despite the best efforts of both Hagrid and the locals of the forest. It was finally by Dumbledore's hand that the fire had finally ended, and through eavesdropping beneath the Cloak of Invisibility on a faculty meeting he learned the unsettling truth behind the blaze.

Someone had used Fiendfyre in the forest, explaining its difficulty to put out, and Harry didn't even need a hunch at the source. Quirrel was teaching Draco dangerous spells, and the kid was likelier to hurt himself or someone innocent than Harry. As it was, he'd have the chance to confront Draco about it soon enough, because they were both going to be helping Hagrid out in the Forbidden Forest tonight.

"Only detention for fighting on the Pitch, they're letting you little hooligans get away with anything these days." Mr. Filch growled as he led Harry towards the Forbidden Forest. It was near midnight, the Moon was full, and Harry was certain that something in those dark woods was dying to sink its teeth into something. How exactly was this letting someone off easy?

"It's a pity they let the old punishments die out. Hang you by your wrists from the ceiling for a few days; see if you'll be breaking any rules after that, boy." Filch sneered.

Harry looked up at him with narrowed eyes. "I'm sure you keep your chains oiled up for just in case they decide to bring that back."

Filch gave Harry a mean look, before laughing. "Bloody right, and if I hear you keep giving trouble, I may just string you up anyway."

"Sick bastard…" Harry snapped back.

"Oh, what was that you cocky little–."

"That's enough, Argus. I'll take Mr. Potter from here" Hagrid called from the darkness ahead. In one hand he carried a torch, and in the other he held the leash to his loyal dog Fang. Draco was already present, looking morose and agitated that he had to be here so late.

Looking from the angry old squib, Hagrid smiled to Harry. "Ready for a long night, there, Harry?"

"You shouldn't be so friendly with the little monster; he's here to be punished, after all." Filch groused at Hagrid.

Hagrid looked down on Filch, clearly annoyed by his tone in regards to Harry. "Aye, by me, and I don't need you tellin' me how to do my job, now do I?"

Filch glared at Hagrid, and turned to head off. "I'll be back at dawn for what's left of them."

Draco looked aside at that, while Harry just snorted. "Dumbledore's too nice for his own good to let a man that nasty work here."

"Man like him shouldn't have his job, I agree. But what more can you expect of a stubborn, bitter old squib?" Hagrid replied.

"Some human decency wouldn't hurt?" Harry asked

Draco couldn't resist. "Squibs don't qualify as human."

"Oh, what does?" At Harry's question, Draco clammed up and looked away.

Hagrid stepped in. "Enough you two, we have work that needs to be done. Pay close attention and come over here."

He led the two of them over to a patch of silver gleaming in the moonlight, and gestured to it. "See the silvery stuff there? That's unicorn blood. Something out there's injured this one, and last Wednesday killed another. We need to find the one that's hurt, and see what we can do about it–we might have to put it down."

Harry nodded to Hagrid, who then looked over to Draco. The Slytherin boy inquired. "What if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?"

He was as afraid as he was before, even with new spells to keep him safe. Was he unsure of his new power, or putting on an act? Harry would rather not find out if they were in a lurch.

Hagrid responded. "There's nothing in this forest that'll hurt you long as you're with me or Fang here. He's a bit of a coward, but he'll protect you without fail."

Hagrid patted the large hound emphatically before turning to look into the forest. "We're going to split into two groups to better locate it. Harry, you'll take Fang. Draco, you'll be with me. If you see the unicorn, send up some green sparks with your wand, and if you're in trouble, send up red, aye?"

Harry raised his wand and produced some green sparks and then red with ease. Hagrid smiled, while Draco scowled at Harry's confidence. Was he enjoying this? Hagrid spoke. "Alright, let's get moving. Don't you worry about a thing, Draco, you won't be going back to your Daddy in a coffin, now move it."

Taking Fang's leash, Harry walked off into the woods one way, as Hagrid and Draco went the other. As they walked away from one another, Draco cast a look towards Harry, and then smiled somewhat darkly. He could only hope that something bad would happen to him, something to leave him crying for his dead mommy and daddy like the pillock he was.

* * *

Curled up in a large, comfortable chair in the Gryffindor Common Room, Hermione scrawled a letter down on a notebook with a normal muggle ink pen. It was a letter to her parents, and they being muggles she felt it was better to send her correspondence with as little magical involvement as possible. There was a lot on her mind, and already the letter had gone to the other side of the page as she wrote it.

A meow off to her side alerted her and she glanced at it. When she remembered what that particular cat in Gryffindor Common Room meant, however, it was too late. "You should be in bed, Miss Granger."

Hermione looked over to Professor McGonagall, who had completed her transformation from cat to human. "I'm sorry Professor, I was just writing a letter to my Mum and I didn't want to bother the others with the light."

"The rules are rules, Miss Granger, they apply to all students." McGonagall replied, though she was quite gentle about it. "I'll allow you to finish it and then it's straight off to bed with you."

Nodding, Hermione resumed writing, as McGonagall found her own chair to sit in. As the House Head sat down, Hermione hummed and then looked over to her. "Professor, can I ask you a question?"

"Of course you can, dear." The woman replied.

Hermione took a deep breath. "What do you think of Harry?"

"Potter? I think he's an outstanding student with a reckless streak, though nothing nearly as bad as his Father…so far." McGonagall replied. Hermione looked down at her letter, and the Professor immediately read the turbulence coming off the young girl. "Is there something about him that bothers you, Miss Granger?"

Hermione shook her head. "No! Harry doesn't bother me at all." She then mulled over her rapid response. "Maybe he does, I…I don't really know. I guess that's why I'm asking you, Professor."

McGonagall didn't respond, beckoning for her to continue, which she did. "Lately, I've begun to worry about Harry, a lot. He's different from all of the other children, from anyone I've ever met, really."

"He is a special case." McGonagall replied a little more gently.

Hermione looked down, unsure of how to confess her feelings, and sighed. McGonagall, however, hit it right on the head. "Does Potter frighten you, Hermione?"

"Yes." Hermione answered without looking up. "Yes, he does."

McGonagall nodded slowly, before Hermione quickly looked up to her. "But it's not because he's threatened me! Harry is my friend and one of the nicest people I know, and he's always been kind to me and everyone who deserves it!" She caught herself. "It's just that…"

"He's powerful, and his power scares you?" McGonagall asked, hitting it right on the mark again.

Hermione nodded.

"Don't you think that's a little baseless?" McGonagall asked. "You said that he's your friend and one of the nicest people you know."

"I did, but…" Hermione tried to reply, but found she was groping for words.

"Power can be frightening, yes, but what a person does with power is what should be feared. When you really think of what Potter has done with that power, is it as frightening?" McGonagall asked.

Hermione mulled over this, and blinked. "Well, when you put it that way…"

They then heard an explosion from outside, followed by more of them. Hermione looked towards the window. "What was that?"

Professor McGonagall rose and rushed to the window, before looking out it and in the direction of the Forbidden Forest. Her eyes widened when she saw several more explosions, and then heard a sound that did not belong in the forest, or anywhere remotely near Hogwarts.

Hermione recognized it just as quickly. "That's a…"

Wait, it was coming from the Forest, where Harry was. "Harry!"

* * *

As Harry walked with Fang down the path, he looked skyward and to the clear night sky overhead. The sky looked a little different from his memory, but one thing about it stood out definitively: Mars was bright tonight.

"Always the innocent are the first victims." He said to himself, prompting Fang to look up at him as if to convey bemusement. Harry stared back and smiled a little. "What?"

He then heard something, movement in the trees up ahead. Tapping Fang on the nose with his wand, Harry pulled his Cloak of Invisibility around himself and crept forward towards the sound while making sure not to upset the surrounding foliage. It only took him a few steps to come upon the near-dead unicorn lying in the clearing, but he did not expect to find two people in cloaks and pointed hats crouched by it, drawing blood from the slowly thrashing animal.

"…The bloody Hell?" Harry whispered. There were two people bleeding the unicorn, not one horrible monster-man-thing.

He then got a much closer look at the two in question, and his eyes narrowed. Tall, pointed hats, golden masks, black cloaks. This told him that in addition to wanting to turn Draco into a counter for Harry, Voldemort has called in some reinforcements for his bid on the stone. To be fair, he did blow up a Troll, so maybe Voldemort wanted some added insurance, how unsettlingly prudent of the Dark Lord.

Still, Death Eaters this close to Hogwarts? That was not going to fly with Harry James Potter. Adjusting his glasses, he got up and began walking towards the two Death Eaters.

"How much does Lord Voldemort need?" The first Death Eater, by the name of Chadwick, asked the second, an older and more experienced witch by the name of Ebony.

Ebony glared at Chadwick with icy blue eyes. "He needs as much as we can bring to him, you twat! Now hurry it up, there's something not right out here. Even the centaurs have run off somewhere…"

Which seriously unnerved her, after something like the fire and the last unicorn killing, the centaurs would be more diligent about trespassers. Even Lord Voldemort was expecting there to be higher security in the Forbidden Forest amongst its inhabitants.

Chadwick, or Chad as he preferred to be called, nodded and prepared to open another bottle to draw out the dying unicorn's blood, when he felt an invisible hand on his left shoulder…and then seven inches of carbon steel enter his right side. Harry didn't hesitate to drag his Christmas Present across the Death Eater's stomach, promptly disemboweling him before ripping the blade out.

Enoby fell backward with a frightened shout when she heard Chad scream in pain and horror. All she could see was Chad go rigid before blood sprayed from his neck as the unseen blade was stabbed into his neck and then torn out. As Chadwick dropped, Harry turned and leaped upon the witch as she went for her wand.

They fell to the ground, with Evony's wand being knocked from her hand by the impact with the ground. As she reached for it, she felt the knife stab into her hand, before with great strength it was torn out, mangling it. When she tried to scream, Harry's hand came from under the cloak and slipped under her mask to clamp over her mouth. Just as quickly, the knife's blade dove into her neck, and Harry cut out her throat.

Standing up, Harry looked down at the bodies and then down at the bloodied knife. He almost wanted to be shocked at what he had just done, to feel some kind of horror that just like that he took two lives, but all he felt was a sense of accomplishment that one could only feel from destroying the object of your hatred.

"Tergeo." Harry commanded, and both his knife and his clothes were cleaned of Death Eater blood. After banishing the bodies away, he pulled off the cloak and draped it over the wounded unicorn, concealing it before stepping out of the clearing himself.

As he crouched into hiding, he could see them moving amongst the shadows towards the scene, with their pointed hats and gold masks that gleamed even in the low light in the forest. There were eight of them, converging from the front as a well spaced group. Eight would be tricky; he'd need Hagrid.

Harry was sure, however, that Hagrid would be along quick enough. Getting up from his hiding spot, he lit red sparks from his wand and threw it into the air straight up, where it suddenly unleashed a great shower of red sparks like a flare, illuminating his imminent vicinity and the Death Eaters converging on him.

Amycus Carrow, one of Voldemort's Death Eaters from the Wizarding War, had been called back to the side of his Dark Lord by Lucius Malfoy, and eager to take advantage of Quirrel's position as inside man to wreak a little havoc around Hogwarts. When Voldemort, via Lucius, ordered their jaunt into the forest for unicorn blood, they had expected no trouble…until they heard Chadwick's scream.

Now he and the other Death Eaters were staring at The-Boy-Who-Lived himself, the very child who placed their Lord in his dire condition and demolished their organization ten years ago.

"That's…!" Amycus gasped out as he drew his wand.

Harry drew his arms into his robe. Under his breath, he muttered "Accio" and then threw off his robe, revealing his muggle attire and in his hands, a drum-fed shotgun. While far from up to date on muggle weaponry, Amycus knew a gun when he saw one.

Harry aimed straight for Amycus. "You're all going to die here!"

He fired the weapon, a fully-automatic burst of buckshot hitting Amycus full force before he could cast a shield charm, shredding his clothes and everything underneath in a mess of red. As Amycus Carrow fell to the ground lifelessly, Harry ran and held down the trigger of the weapon, the barrage that spewed from the weapon forcing the other Death Eaters to the ground before he fled deeper into the trees.

With Amycus dead and The-Boy-Who-Devastated-That-Dude in front of them, the other Death Eaters chose murderous revenge over fleeing and gave chase, moving with intimidating swiftness, catching up and flanking their smaller quarry.

One Death Eater, spying Harry in the light amidst the trees, unleashed a curse that smashed through the trees, only to reveal nothing but wisps of smoke. He then heard a crack behind him and felt a knife go into his back.

"Glacius." He then felt a numbing cold as his internal organs were flash frozen by Harry's charm, channeled through the blade. When Harry yanked out the knife, the flesh, bone, and sinew shattered as the blade exited.

Another Death Eater, seeing the other go down, threw a curse at Harry, but he had vanished. With a loud crack he was directly in front of the Death Eater and thrusting the weapon up through the chin with all his might. Kicking the Death Eater, Harry yanked his blade out and tumbled into the thick foliage.

Lying on his back, panting for breath, Harry stared up at the clearing of trees over his head and let out a quick, jittery laugh when he saw Mars, blood red in the sky tinted the same color by his still burning flare. Harry rolled over, and crawled through the underbrush.

"Don't feel too bad if you can't kill me! Voldemort couldn't do it when I was in a crib! " He yelled out, hoping to draw in the other Death Eaters to him.

He succeeded, a few curses and hexes soared over his head, and Harry whispered aloud "Accio", summoning to him a satchel. Reaching inside and pulling a pin, he swung it around by its handle and threw it towards where the curses had come from before rolling away behind the cover of a tree.

A tremendous explosion followed, sending smoke, dust, and dirt whipping by Harry on either side of the thick, sturdy tree. Getting up onto his feet, Harry stumbled out into the thick smoke, and brought his hand up to his face. He was on the verge of hyperventilation; a twisted smile split his lips ear to ear, as he marveled at how powerful he actually was.

"I'm going to kill all of you, each and every one!" He declared with a shaky laugh.

At that instant a green bolt of magic narrowly missed him, a killing curse fired by a Death Eater who was now lining him up for a second blast of the unforgivable curse. Unfortunately, the Death Eater didn't get the chance, because Fang came silently from nowhere, leaping for the Death Eater's throat and biting into it like a bear trap and breaking it.

Two Death Eaters, disoriented by the explosion, quickly spotted Harry and raised their wands to fire off curses. Harry waved his hand skillfully, deflecting the curses away from him with a wand-less shield charm and surprising both.

"A shield charm!" One gasped in shock that a first year could use something like that.

The second Death Eater only screamed, because he'd been yanked off his feet by two very big hands. When the first turned, the last thing he saw was his compatriot swung at him like a hammer with such velocity that the upper bodies of the two wizards were torn apart on impact.

"HARRY!" Hagrid roared as he tossed his impromptu weapon's remains aside. "YOU OKAY THERE, BOY?"

Harry looked around, and then spotted two Death Eaters, the last ones remaining. "Hagrid!"

One was preparing a blasting curse, while the other's wand was glowing brightly. Harry rapidly unsheathed his knife and threw it as he yelled "Depulso", banishing the weapon instantaneously into the Death Eater's skull.

The blasting curse hit, knocking Hagrid backward, but really only succeeding in making him angry. "You've gone and fouled it right up, boyo!" He roared.

"Accio!" Harry yelled out furiously, and into his hands appeared another firearm, a Light Machine Gun.

As the Death Eater stepped back in shock that his curse had done little to nothing to Hagrid, Harry laid on the trigger, hosing down the Dark Wizard with a stream of lead. The Death Eater hit the ground in a lifeless heap, and Harry, on the verge of hyperventilation, walked over to the body.

Staring down at the masked face, Harry's breathing continued to pick up, before he screamed and unloaded the entire hundred-round box magazine into the body, turning it into a grisly mess. Still screaming, he began to stab corpse with the gun itself until he heard a crunch and something break under the force of the assault.

Hagrid just stood over Harry, as he gave the body a few more stabs with the weapon and then slumped forward with it propping him up. When he rested a large hand on Harry's shoulder, the boy flinched but didn't respond otherwise.

"You went full mental there." Hagrid said as he drew his hand back.

"Yeah." Harry whispered back.

Fang walked over and sat at Harry's side with his tail wagging. Removing the silence charm, Harry began to scratch Fang behind his ear. "What happened to Malfoy?"

"I put him to sleep when you made your flare. I figure the little beast didn't need to be seeing what you were gonna do. I figured right…" Hagrid replied.

Harry stood up, and banished the machine gun, before summoning his robe, knife, and wand to him. The teachers were probably on their way right now. "Hagrid…"

"I'm not gonna judge ya, Harry. This was the kind of thing we were expecting to eventually happen." Hagrid said as they began to banish the bodies away.

Harry nodded. "Yes, but…I went to a very bad place just now, Hagrid."

"But you came back." Hagrid assured him before they walked back to where the unicorn had been left.

Summoning his invisibility cloak to him, Harry wrapped it around his waist and looked down at the injured creature. "Can we save it, Hagrid?"

"There's a chance, aye." Hagrid knelt down and began to work. He could see the vials of Unicorn Blood lying about and his already present frown deepened. "Doing this to an innocent creature, you can't even call yourself a human being for it."

Harry stared at the unicorn and clenched his hands into fists. "They gave up their humanity when they decided to follow Voldemort."

"Aye, I know." Hagrid finished patching up the wound and rose to his feet. He gingerly lifted the unicorn up and began walking to where he left Draco safe with Harry and Fang at his side.

"Harry."

"Yes Hagrid?"

"Always remember to come back from that place. You ain't him. You're you."

"…Thanks, Hagrid."

* * *

When the group reached Hagrid's hut, Harry carrying the slumbering Draco on his back, they found McGonagall, Snape, Quirrel, and Dumbledore waiting for them. Dumbledore, on seeing them, smiled in relief. "Hagrid, Harry, are you all well?"

"What happened to Draco?" Snape demanded when he saw the sleeping Slytherin.

Hagrid let out a gruff snort. "Fainted dead away when he saw the state of this poor thing here."

He patted on the Unicorn for emphasis before he set it down with care. McGonagall let out a muffled gasp when she saw the extent of its injuries, but Hagrid was quick to reassure. "Ah, it needs some looking after, but it should make a full recovery."

Harry set Draco down as Dumbledore spoke. "There was quite a din out there, Hagrid. What was it?"

"Search me. The boys and I and Fang here come across the Unicorn and then it's bloody Guy Fawkes Night with explosions and lights everywhere." Hagrid pointed at Draco. "Little prat slept right through it all, me an' Harry had to duck low until it was over. Haven't a clue what it was."

"Not a clue at all?" McGonagall asked, completely surprised by that. There was no way they could not have seen what that was.

Hagrid nodded. "It's like this. Soon as it started it was over, and me an' Harry were wondering what the bloody devil happened, I had a look around, saw it was clear as day, and we came right back. Not a sign of whatever it was."

"W-well as long as nobody was hurt, why don't we head back in? It is pre-preposterously late and I have early classes…" Professor Quirrel suggested quickly.

Snape's scowled at Harry and the boy winced from the pain coming from his scar. Deciding to use it as his way out, Harry said to Dumbledore. "Whatever it was, it gave me a killer headache. I think I'm ready to go back in; I've learned my lesson about punching people, honest."

"I agree, I don't really need the kids around for tending to the unicorn. They've served their time." Hagrid added.

"Well, the punishment was handed out by Professor Snape, so I will make it his call." Dumbledore looked over to Snape, who frowned and then nodded.

"Get straight to bed Potter." He then pointed his wand at Draco and cast a charm that woke him from his sleep.

"Ahh!" Draco screamed and looked around. "What…what happened?"

"You fainted from seeing a bloody unicorn." Harry answered in his flattest possible voice before he began walking away.

"I did what? No I didn't!" Draco yelled after Harry, in an effort to retain his dignity.

Snape nipped the confrontation in the bud. "Just go to bed, Malfoy. You've done enough tonight, go to bed."

Grumbling and still a little confused, Draco relented and followed Harry back towards the school. As he overtook him, Draco sneered at Harry. "For all I know, you cast a hex on me to make me sleep."

Harry glared at him. "You fainted, and you should be grateful I carried your arse back. I could've left you for the giant spiders."

Recalling his previous encounter with them, Draco shuddered in fear. Reaching the doors to the school, Harry barged in and past Filch who was surprised to see them return.

As Harry stormed past him, he called out. "What're you little troublemakers doing back in here-?"

"Blow it out your arse miserable old bastard!" Harry yelled at him without looking back, surprising him and Draco. Where the Hell did that come from?

"What did you just call me?" Filch yelled after Harry, but the boy had fled. Fuming in indignation, he looked over at the shocked Draco and decided to take his anger out on him. "Get to your house, boy!"

Draco fled in a hurry.

* * *

Entering the tower and passing through the painting, Harry removed his robe and slung it over his shoulder as he entered the dimly lit common room. He only made three paces towards the stairs to his bedroom, when he saw Hermione still seated in her chair, staring right at him with wide eyes. What was she doing awake?

"Hermione, you're still up–oof!" Hermione had interrupted him by all but leaping from the chair and all but tackling him with a hug. He managed to catch himself from falling over, but Hermione got her arms tight around him and buried her face in his shoulder.

Understandably shaken, and still a little winded by the impact, Harry hugged Hermione back. "What happened?"

It took a little bit for Hermione to regain some composure, but she pulled back from Harry and stared at him. "Harry, what happened out there? There were explosions, and gunfire. That's not supposed to happen here."

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, when it started me and Hagrid had to take cover. Maybe it was some muggles that wandered in just shooting off weapons, I don't know."

Letting him go, Hermione sighed. "Well, I'm glad you're safe. I was so scared when I heard it."

Harry smiled feebly. "Voldemort couldn't kill me when I was in my crib, a bunch of muggles with some dinky guns aren't even going to come close."

"Yes, the-invincible-boy-who-lived." Hermione replied with her own weak smile that barely contained her turmoil. "Well, goodnight Harry."

"Ah, yes, goodnight Hermione." Harry replied.

Waving to him, Hermione turned and headed up the stairs to her dormitory, leaving Harry to drop into a chair and shut out the lights with a wave of his wand–plunging him into darkness. Rubbing the scar, he covered his whole face with his palm and heaved a heavy sigh.

"…The Hell have I done?" He pulled his hand back, and looked at both of them. As he stared, the reality of what he had done hit him, and suddenly the rush of his violent yet brief battle suddenly felt like it was a whole other person doing those acts.

They were Death Eaters.

He had killed them.

They were murderers.

He had murdered them.

They weren't human.

…Neither was he.

He began to breathe quickly, and trembled uncontrollably as he came crashing down with a mortified yell.

"WHAT THE HELL HAVE I DONE!"

Gripping the railing, a much shaken Hermione looked back down the steps in the direction of Harry's yell.

* * *

On the seventh floor of Hogwarts later that evening, Hagrid opened a door, squeezed himself through its uncomfortably small doorway and shut it behind him. Once it was shut and secure, the gentle giant stood to full height and walked towards the roaring fireplace at the room's opposite end, where he found the person he was to meet staring at the fire.

"Is it right to be doing it like this?" Hagrid asked.

"In order for Voldemort to be killed, he must kill Harry Potter. This is what we discussed and agreed upon, and what Harry's memories have shown to be true. Until that happens, any other effort is meaningless."

Hagrid nodded. "I know that, but we've all seen the boy's memories of the future. That Harry has a death wish, and it's influencing this one." He gestured aside to the ten bodies covered in sheets along one wall of the room. "Harry lost it out there, slaughtered eight of them like sheep."

"It's an unfortunate side-effect of the memories. Harry has chosen to face his destiny head on, and all we can do is support him until Voldemort makes his move."

Hagrid shuddered a bit, how he hated that name. "Even so, You-Know-Who's already pulling in Death Eaters. It's not going to go like in the pensieve. It's all for nothing if the people we're trying to protect die, especially those who survived the last time. Is there a better way to be doin' this?"

Folding his weathered hands behind his back, the other person in the room sighed. Hagrid didn't like that silence and stepped forward. "Well, Albus?"

Dumbledore turned to face Hagrid. There was no gentle smile, or twinkle in his eye when he answered.

"If there was, it's too late to go back, now."

* * *

A/N: A special thanks to "Chad", Mr. 100th Reviewer for HI POWER. For your contribution, a character was named after you and murdered by Harry. Also, My Immortal is one of my favorite stories, so I had to pay an homage to that _intentional_ train wreck. You won't be missed Evoby. To all my loyal readers who waited and hoped, Harry Is Pissed Off With Everyone's Rubbish...and he's back to do something about it.


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